Memory of Stars
by Ownlildreamworld
Summary: AU DH Somewhere during the horcrux hunt things take a significant turn and the end of the war plays out quite differently. Secrets have been uncovered and one year has stretched into more than two. Harry is tired and decides on one last risky gambit before he calls it quits for good. TR/HP MoD!Harry
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe.

"dialogue"  
" _mental dialogue"  
_ " **parsel"  
** " _ **mental parsel"**_

* * *

In a large grubby library a man was sat at a table laden with numerous books and papers. He was not reading or writing notes, but instead staring listlessly down at his hands. His green eyes continued to gaze unseeing before him, seemingly unaware of his surroundings and the pervasive silence of the house bearing down on him. Lost in quiet debate with himself he took no notice as the long minutes ticked by. Finally the slightest of sighs escaped him and he leaned back in his chair a faint look of wary determination crossing his face before settling once again into blankness. With a deep breath that ruffled a stray lock of raven hair he closed his eyes and mentally reached out to an all too familiar presence.

 _"Hello Tom. I have a proposal for you."_

* * *

Anger flared at the uttering of _that_ name and red eyes narrowed. Of course that boy was the only one who dared say such a thing in his presence. When he finally got his hands on the whelp the brat would regret his actions fully before he was finally killed. Before he even thought to stop himself he mentally lashed out.

 _"Brat! Do not use that name! I will make you suffer for such rudeness!"_

 _"Fine, Voldemort then. Now are you going to hear my proposal or keep ranting like a toddler throwing a tantrum?"_

The never ending impertinence of that brat! _"I will skin you alive and have you watch as Nagini eats you one piece at a time!"_ Yes, that would be satisfying. To hear his screams as he watches his every finger, toe, hand and foot slowly devoured before him would be musical. Red eyes glazed slightly in gleeful contemplation of his enemies torture.

 _"The proposal Voldemort. Will you calm down long enough to hear it out? You can throw me to Nagini all you like afterwards."_

At that Voldemort paused in his mental flaying of a certain green eyed nuisance. He wondered what the brat could possibly be up to this time and decided to humor him for the moment.

 _"Fine. What is this proposal you are harping on about?"_

 _"An agreement, magically binding, between us to serve as a temporary cease fire."_

He couldn't be serious. Voldemort had all but won by this point. Both Hogwarts and the ministry were nearly under his control and only the Boy Wonder himself and a few token resistance pockets remained to oppose him.

 _"For what reason would I ever agree to such a thing? You have lost boy. There is nothing left you can do to stop me."_

 _"There is one thing. I have your horcruxes. All of them."_

Fear lanced through him followed quickly by fury. Impossible, he couldn't have found one much less all of them. He obviously knew about them though and that he had made more than one. Something shattered behind him and he realized his magic had slipped his control again and reacted to his anger. Another point of growing frustration was the slow slippage of control over his magic, but the thought quickly passed blown away in the face of his rage.

The boy continued, _"The diary, locket, cup, ring, diadem... when was the last time you saw Nagini Tom? You can't make more at this point. You're probably already fraying at the seams from running a body with too little soul. All those potent emotions I know you feel. Bouncing between extremes in uncontrollable whiplash. I can feel them through our connection so there is no denying it. I bet you are having trouble with you magic too. Can you afford to dismiss me?"_

More shattering sounds. He heard a panicked cry and only vaguely recalled some of his death eaters being present when the boy contacted him. He paid them no attention instead focusing on the source of his current fury.

 _"What do you want?"_

 _"As I said a temporary cease fire. Just long enough for us to hold an exchange without either of us being at risk. There are conditions of course. The first of which, and this is non-negotiable, is we will be piecing your soul back together."_

His anger fizzled in the face of the absurdity of that statement. Piece his soul back together. The boy must have completely lost it in these past years he'd spent on the run. Even if he was willing to allow such a thing he wasn't capable of the remorse required to heal a soul. Yes, the boy had finally gone round the bend and lost all reason.

 _"You cannot be serious. I would not give up my anchors that keep me here even if I could feel the necessary remorse. Which I cannot."_

 _"You do not need to. I have found another way to stitch you back together and we will be returning all, but the smallest fragment. So you will still have your anchor and you will likely find yourself with much more control over your mind and magic. I refuse to cooperate with a psychopathic madman and until you pull yourself back together you are little else. Even if you won't admit it you know I am right. Just look at yourself with your snake face and hair-trigger temper. How far you've fallen from that charismatic leader you started out as. It is no wonder that even your own death eaters cower from you."_

He reluctantly conceded the brat had a point. These moments of semi-lucidity had been growing increasingly infrequent and his magic was certainly not what it used to be. No need to mention his appearance. Could he allow himself to only have one horcrux though? If something happened to it he would no longer have the backups to ensure his safety. It seemed like such a flimsy fail-safe and again a fission of fear raced up his spine at the mere thought of dying. Might as well hear what else the golden boy had to say. Perhaps he could glean his location during their conversation and forcefully take his horcruxes back.

 _"What else?"_

 _"Pardon?"_

 _"You implied multiple conditions. What are the others."_

 _"Ah. Well the second being that I have a written reformation plan for the British wizarding society that you must go over and seriously consider. You cannot simply immediately dismiss it out of hand. You do not have to agree with it or even implement it, but you must give it proper thought and unbiased consideration. Actually, that's really all there is. Two things. Your soul so that you regain your rationality and hearing out my plan for our society."_

That's what the boy wanted? No demands. No pleas for his own life or his friend's safety. No begging for the muggleborns to be left alone. Just to read a proposal. The healing of his soul was only a means to achieve that end. What was going through that boy's mind?

 _"And your part in all this?"_

 _"Given the successful absorption of your soul fragments and should you choose to actually implement any part of my proposal I will assist you in anyway you need to ensure it's success. I can use my name to vouch for you or my votes to help pass bills and things such as that. I imagine I'll be rather useful all things considered. Once I am no longer needed and required to participate in current affairs or if you simply refuse my plan or assistance I will give you physical ownership of the remaining horcrux vessel and vow to not interfere with it without your permission. At that point I plan to retreat from society and leave you and the wizarding world to your own devices."_

 _"Why would you do this? There is very little here that works towards your benefit? You essentially want me to read a proposal with no guarantee that I will implement even a part of it? What of your precious resistance?"_

 _"I am tired Tom. I have very little left that I care about and this is my last effort to change things and it is only to honor my friends memories. I was never asked if I wanted to be a part of this war or where my opinions lay. This was always a fight between you and Dumbledore and I was simply dragged in the middle of it. Well here is my first and last attempt to to declare my stance. Regardless of the outcome once this is over I am finished. I am leaving this society and I do not plan to return."_

Voldemort considered these words. What had happened to the boy he had met in the graveyard those years ago? That fierce undying determination seemed to have finally reached its limit. A pang that could almost be considered regret flashed through his mind, but was easily dismissed. The biggest question at hand was the matter of his horcruxes. He hadn't felt this lucid in years and it was easy to see now the cause of this. Should he take the risk? There was nothing stopping him from making more later after he was healed if it proved counterproductive. Fine he would consent to the boy's request and go from there once the boy wonder was no longer a threat.

 _"I, Lord Voldemort, formally Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr., will consent to the absorption of all soul fragments save one and to read one Harry James Potter-Black's proposal with fair and unbiased consideration on the condition. Should I choose to implement any part of his proposal I will have his full cooperation to achieve these ends. My horcrux will be relinquished into my possession, unharmed, immediately upon the completion of these objectives. During this exchange I will not knowingly harm one Harry James Potter-Black unless in self defense. So mote it be."_

 _"I, Harry James Potter-Black, will assist in the absorption of all soul fragments belonging to Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr. sans one. On the condition that Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr. reads my proposal without bias and with due consideration I will assist in the implementation of any part of my proposal in any way I am needed. Upon the conclusion of my assistance I will transfer the physical ownership of the remaining horcrux vessel to Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr. and will not try to interfere with it in the time following without his permission. During this exchange I will not knowingly harm one Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr. unless in self defense. So mote it be."_

Voldemort felt his magic flare in acceptance of the oath. As the magic settled around him Voldemort had the feeling that this conversation would mark a turning point. Whether for himself, the brat, or the wizarding world at large he couldn't say.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe.

"dialogue"  
" _mental dialogue"  
_ " **parsel"  
** " _ **mental parsel"**_

* * *

A week later found the pair together in an open field. A neutral meeting point that they had previously agreed upon. Voldemort stared at the boy, though really at almost 20 he couldn't exactly be considered such, and to put it bluntly he looked terrible. It was obvious he didn't sleep well or at all. Even behind those overlarge patched up glasses the bags under his eyes were apparent and his eyes were dulled with exhaustion. His hair was almost shoulder length and shaggy as if it had not been cut properly in years and calling his clothes merely ill fitting and worn would be a kindness. Most jarring though was just how emaciated he appeared. From what Voldemort had gathered about the boy he had never been anything but skinny, but this was an extreme he had not been expecting. Potter appeared as if he had not eaten well in weeks or possibly months. Voldemort didn't doubt that beneath those rags that pass as clothes each of Potter's ribs could be easily counted.

On his part Potter bore the scrutiny without word. He simply looked back at Voldemort, brow slightly raised as if vaguely amused at the attention being given to him. Mostly though he looked tired. If Voldemort were to describe Potter's appearance in one word it would be tired. Perhaps the boy was being truthful in his previous reasoning after all.

"Potter"

The barest of nods "Voldemort"

Voldemort continued, "From here I will be taking you to my manor. I have a ritual room there that should suffice for our purposes. Do not attempt anything. It would not end well for you."

That faintest look of amusement flickered across Potter's face again, but he took the offered arm without comment. With a small turn and a quiet pop the pair were gone and the field fell back to it's natural silence.

They arrived in the entryway of what appeared to be a large manor. The decorations were of obvious quality, but there was an understatement that ran through the decor. Nothing overly lavish or ornate, but there was little doubt that the owner was well off. Voldemort swiftly led the way further into the manor. Through a twist of corridors the pair eventually arrived in front a a nondescript door. Voldemort pushed it open and true to word on the other side was a ritual room. Bare stone and empty, the room did not look like anything special, but great care had gone into its preparation. The room was heavily warded and magically sealed off from the outside. Once the door was closed it provides an isolated environment best suited for more sensitive magics such as rituals.

Potter looked around and nodded his approval. He then pulled out a pouch from around his neck. Reaching in he proceeded to pull out the horcruxes. If Voldemort had not been expecting it he would have tried to kill Potter on the spot for so much as touching one of his soul pieces. Even so he felt a flare of anger spike and received a knowing glance from Potter. One by one they were taken out of the bag. The remains of the diary and ring, the locket, the diadem, the cup, Nagini in stasis (and how Potter had gotten his hands on her he had no idea) and each was carefully placed off to the side. Then potter produced a small book and some chalk. He opened the book, walked to the center of the room and began to draw.

In the reigning silence, Voldemort watched intently as the ritual circle was constructed to ensure there were no mistakes. As he watched he found his thoughts once again drifting to the enigma that Potter had become. What had happened to turn that boy into this shell of a man that stood before him? There appeared very little life left in Potter. Even meeting his sworn enemy of a lifetime garnered little reaction out of the boy. His actions since arrival seem almost mechanical. Absent of anything resembling life or care.

In truth Potter mostly had fallen out of his consideration somewhere during what should have been the boy's seventh year of Hogwarts. He had lost track of him and had not heard so much as a whisper about the boy's whereabouts until Potter himself contacted him a week ago. At first Voldemort assumed the boy was lying low and planning, but as time passed and no sign of the boy emerged he figured that he and his two friends must have fled Britain. Occupied as he was with the remaining resistance Voldemort had largely let his prophecised enemy slip from his mind. A slip he would not make a second time.

Obviously the boy had not fled as was more than evident by the line of _his_ horcruxes sat innocently by the wall. Why hadn't the boy destroyed them? Since he also had the diary he had to know at least one way to manage their destruction. Why bring them back to him instead and propose to heal his soul? Was this all really just to have him read a proposal the brat had cobbled together while on the run?

Voldemort found himself pulled out of his musings as he abruptly noticed the absence of chalk scraping stone. He looked up to find Potter idly watching him. Shooting a glare at the brat he stepped up to inspect the circle. They had gone over the details at length the week previous and he had done his own extensive research to confirm. As if Lord Voldemort would ever allow for anything less when one or in the case most of his horcruxes were involved. A slow survey of the circle found nothing wrong. Not a grain of chalk out of place. Voldemort found himself grudgingly approving of the work on display.

He gave a small nod, "This is acceptable. Which horcrux is to be left out? You mentioned the one with the smallest fragment contained."

"None of these. You do not have six horcruxes. You have seven. You made one without even realizing it and that is the one that will be left untouched. I assure you that it is a proper horcrux and safe. It is also probably the most protected of the group. However, I will not reveal what it is until we are through and the terms of our oath fulfilled."

Rage. How dare he presume to tell Lord Voldemort what to do! And what was this nonsense about a seventh horcrux? It was impossible to create one accidentally. Lord Voldemort would crucio the brat to within an inch of sanity!

Suddenly Potter was there staring him straight in the eyes unwavering. "Calm down now and listen. The oath we took will not allow me to deceive you in this matter. There is another horcrux you were too far gone at the time to realize what you had made. I am definitely not going to tell you as long as you are prone to these blind rages you seem ever so fond of."

Voldemort was broken out of his rage more from the shock in this drastic change in Potter's demeanor than his words, but Potter had achieved his goal regardless. Taking a calming breath trying to resist the urge to strangle the whelp, he decided he would wait at least until after the ritual before pursuing the matter. Potter was correct that the oath would hold him to his word and that meant there must indeed be another horcrux as difficult to fathom as that was. There was no sense in antagonizing him further when he was needed to piece his soul back together. Afterwards when less delicate tasks were looming he could wring the boy for information regarding this extra horcrux.

Without acknowledging the boy, Voldemort stepped into place. His piercing red gaze followed every movement as potter placed his horcruxes and took his position. Potter glanced up and stated, "I should warn you this is likely to hurt. Badly. Not only are you healing a tear in your soul, you are healing multiple tears simultaneously."

If it weren't beneath him Voldemort would have rolled his eyes, "I expected nothing less. Get on with it before I change my mind about not feeding you to Nagini brat."

Potter started to chant. The magic built and then his world became pain. It was agonizing and he could no longer remember that he was anything other than this all consuming pain. After an indeterminable length of time the pain stopped and he only briefly glimpsed Potter's dumbfounded expression before the world went dark.

* * *

He ached. There was no other word to describe how he felt, but it did not really begin to cover the pervasiveness of the feeling. There was no part of him that did not ache. His skin, joints, muscles, eyes, down to his very soul felt like it ached.

Well the ritual had not killed him. Whether it had succeeded was yet to be determined. If only his eyes would cooperate and open so he could take stock of his situation. The very thought of opening his eyes seemed to emphasize the ache. Not about to let such a paltry thing as achiness, and he did not just think the word achiness, stop him he mustered up his strength and slowly opened his eyes. The room he was in was blissfully dim and it only took him a moment to register that he was in his own bedroom. How that brat had managed to get him here through all his wards he did not know, but he was simply too...achy to care.

With a small sigh at the poor state of his mental vocabulary he struggled his way up into a sitting position and called out "Nimsey."

A small creature popped into existence "What can Nimsey bes doing for Master Snake?"

Another mental sigh at the elf's chosen name for him, but he at least had gotten her to stop calling him Master Snakey. At the time he had chalked that up as a victory of unparalleled proportions. He wasn't about to risk her changing to something potentially worse by pressing the matter.

"A mild pain reliever and some tea Nimsey. Also do you have any idea how Potter got me in here and how long I have been out?"

"Master's guest called for a house elf and had Nimsey bring Master to Master's room. Master's guest said to tell Master that Master's guest will contact him again after Master has woken. Master has been out for over two days now." The little creature started to wring her hands looking decidedly upset, "Nimsey was getting worried."

Another sigh, this seemed to keep happening, "You did fine Nimsey. Now that potion and tea would be appreciated."

Nimsey looked slightly startled, but promptly popped away.

A few minutes later and feeling considerably better after the potion and hot tea he decided a shower would help relieve the rest of the stiffness. He pushed off the bed and gracefully walked across the room and into the bathroom. Where he stopped dead in place and gaped at his reflection.

The first thing that struck him was the nose. He had a nose. He poked it and recoiled slightly at the feeling of a nose, his nose, being poked. Eventually, he pulled his mind away from this new fascination and realized the nose was not the only thing to change. For the most part he looked like his 30 something year old self. Two notable exceptions caught his attention. His eyes were still red, but no longer slit-pupil and he still had no hair. He narrowed his eyes and looked closer at his head. He rubbed his hand across his scalp, then his eyebrows and confirmed his suspicion. It was not that he had no hair, but that he only had two days growth of hair. Barely a stubble now, but given time or a potion he should be once more graced with a full head of hair. He poked the nose, _his_ nose, again and could not help but let out a slight smirk in triumph.

Later, feeling refreshed, he found his thoughts torn between his now ill fitting wardrobe and the taste of his lunch. How could he have forgotten just how much better food used to taste? He took a bite of his sandwich and understood why he had forgotten to eat so often. Food had been bland. He hadn't even realized it, but food had been very bland. It had never occurred to him that something was wrong because how could there ever be anything less than perfect about Lord Voldemort. He had better be careful or he'll start to think of himself as two separate beings. In a way they were though. It was undeniable that there were a lot of things he had been missing previously and had not realized he was missing. Like the taste of food. This sandwich was delicious.

Somewhere in the middle of pondering fabrics for his new wardrobe he felt a slight nudge in the back of his mind. It took him a moment to realize it must be the brat's equivalent of knocking.

" _Potter"_

" _Afternoon Tom."_ was the surprisingly chipper reply from Potter. Tom paused as if expecting something. Only that something did not come. He pondered over what was absent and finally realized that Potter had called him Tom and he had not gotten angry over it. In fact he felt at most mild exasperation. If he stretched it. Looking back Tom realized that while he was not especially fond of the name, breaking down into a rage every time he heard it was maybe a tad extreme. Maybe. He still would not allow his death eaters to dare call him any such thing, but perhaps he could make an exception for Potter. If only because he was indirectly the cause for the taste of that sandwich.

Potter continued, _"I couldn't help but notice that you were awake Tom. I've been receiving a decidedly giddy feeling coming from you for a few hours now. It's the nose isn't it?"_

The shear amusement that Tom could feel coming over the link was another change and he made a mental note to go over his occlumency shields later. He needed to know if there was suddenly an issue with his shields or if the only reason he hadn't felt Potter's emotions previously was because his own were so uncontrollable and extreme as to overwhelm almost anything coming from that brat.

Tabling that thought for later his attention shifted back to Potter, _"Do not think that a tasty sandwich is enough to allow you such leeway when speaking to me brat. Nose or not I am still the Dark Lord."_

Now Potter just felt baffled. Better.

" _Err_ _okay. I just wanted to make sure everything seems to have worked correctly. Judging by your change in appearance I think it's safe to say that the ritual at least somewhat suceeded. Have you had a chance to test your magic?"_

" _No. I will only start once I've thoroughly reviewed the state of my occlumency shields and mindscape"_ and bought a new wardrobe, _"What of your proposal Potter?"_

Potter's lingering amusement vanished abruptly at the mention of his proposal. _"Ah. I think that best wait until you have yourself sorted out again. Maybe in a week or so we can meet again regarding the proposal. I was just checking in. I'll leave you to your sandwich now."_

With that Potter's presence disappeared leaving Tom to again wonder over the rapid changes in Potter's demeanor. Putting the thought aside Tom returned to his glorious sandwich and resumed his wardrobe planning.

* * *

His mind was a mess. It turns out that spending a number of years or decades as notably less than sane leaves your mind something of a disaster zone. Suddenly his fixation on that sandwich, no matter how tasty, had taken on an entirely new meaning. This also explained why his thoughts had felt so scattered since he woke. Or even before if he was being truthful. With a resigned sigh Tom waded through the mess that was his thoughts and memories of the last couple decades and started the tedious process of sorting them.

This was not pleasant. Tom sorted yet another memory of randomly torturing some hapless muggle. He could not help but wonder at what he had been thinking. He did not care overly much about the muggle. Nobody who knew him would claim he was a nice person even before he split his soul. However, the shear pointlessness of many of his actions over the years was appalling. He knew that he could not kill all the muggles. There were billions of them and they were frustratingly resilient. Risking exposure like he had with the raids on muggle villages was a level of stupidity that he would only acknowledge in the privacy of his own mind.

After a few more memories, he started to wonder if Potter piecing him back together was not just some twisted passive-aggressive revenge plan. Potter makes Tom understand the depth of his mistakes and then laughs hysterically with his friends over a warm butterbear. Yes, he could just picture Potter with the red head and Ms. Bushy Brown laughing at the success of their intricate plot to save the Dark Lord's soul just so he would be faced with the inanity of the choices he had made while very much insane. Although when stated like that perhaps not. Perhaps Potter had truly healed his soul just because he wanted Tom to read some proposal. Actually that sounded equally as absurd. As Tom sorted yet another meaningless report from a low level death eater he somewhat missed the days when crucio seemed to solve all of life's problems.

Hours later a grumpy Dark Lord emerged from his much clearer mind. Although he wasn't nearly finished Tom already felt significantly more settled. He called Nimsey for some dinner and settled down in his study to assess the state of affairs with his death eaters. Nimsey once again seemed slightly shocked when she departed after setting his plate down, but Tom was reluctant to ask for a reason. Even to his less than sane self the logic of house elves was often mind-bending and Nimsey in particular was a force all to herself. He decided to put off that particular matter for now and turned to his reports.

He knew it would be bad. It was not as though he suddenly did not remember what he was doing last week. He even remembered his reasoning. He just no longer comprehended why he had thought that reasoning was sound. Overnight his whole perspective had shifted and Tom was now left to deal with the fallout. Tom looked down at the reports strewn across his desk and it took all his Dark Lord dignity to refrain from banging his head on said desk. Repeatedly. It said a lot about how far the wizarding world had fallen that he had even gotten half this far in his conquest.

Leaning back in his chair tiredly Tom contemplated on what he was going to have to do in the coming weeks to begin to fix the mess of his affairs. He would need to rework the death eaters as a group. There were too many reckless grunts who were only in it for the sport of muggle hunting and were now a liability. Another group who for various reasons, many from too much time under his crucio, that were simply not sane enough to be trusted to avoid causing unnecessary mayhem. Come to think of it Bella had been missing for months now. Her dark mark was still active so he didn't believe she was dead, but that made her prolonged absence even more unusual. As crazy as she was, she was easily one of Tom's most devout followers and would not willingly remain absent like this. He would have to see about tracing her whereabouts when he had a chance.

On the other hand it was now easy for him to see how he had practically alienated other death eaters like the Malfoys. Tom was well aware that Lucius only remained with him out of fear for his family's safety. He would need the Malfoy's reputation and clout within the ministry if he was to proceed with his plans and would not get the best results if Malfoy started trying to undermine his orders. Perhaps he should bring Lucius in soon for a chat. Lucius would also be useful in swaying others like him back to truly supporting the cause.

Severus too would need to be brought in. It was now painfully clear how he was likely playing both sides. Perhaps with that brat's influence he could bring Severus back over fully. As much as it galled him to let this probable betrayal go, Tom could not argue how Slytherin and very much like Snape the action was. He also could not contest the man's brilliance in potions and other fields. He suspected he might have lost Severus the night he killed Lily Potter. The man had always had an infatuation with her. The question remained though that with her son at least somewhat cooperative would Severus remain where he was or reaffirm his loyalties.

Another problem was the remaining Order of the Phoenix members. With Dumbledore dead and their savior missing, Moody and Shacklebot had taken over the running of that thorn in the side vigilante group. Severus claimed that without Dumbledore to vouch for him he had been relegated to potions supplier, but how true that really was had yet to be seen. Even if Severus were marginalized in the organization Tom sincerely doubted that he would be anything less than informed. He suspected that even with that overly paranoid auror cobbling about Severus would know most everything happening within the group. Yet another reason to win back his potions master.

However first he needed to go shopping for new robes and reacquaint himself with his magic. Even if he no longer wore that fearsome snakelike visage he did have an image to maintain. Even Dumbledore had kept up appearances with those bright mismatched colors that could make eyes bleed. Those colors were a deliberate choice to promote his self made image of a slightly dotty and kind old man and mislead people into forgetting the shrewd mind they lay underneath. At least his hair had gone gray in his old age. The red had clashed so badly with some of his outfits it was a wonder his students had not gone blind. Yes, some new robes were certainly necessary.

Sighing tiredly once again, this really was becoming a habit, Tom reluctantly stood from his chair and headed in the direction of his bedroom. He'd sleep for now and then start what would likely be a long week of magic, occlumency, shopping and planning. Or as the brat put it sorting himself out. Hopefully his death eaters could handle a week without him telling them when to eat, sleep and bathe. The ones that could not probably needed to go anyway so it was no tremendous loss. Lowering down onto his bed Tom allowed one final prod at his nose before falling asleep.

* * *

A little over a week later and Tom was feeling like an entirely new person. Potter was correct. After finally getting the clutter in his mind sorted he had moved onto his magic. The change was enormous. Tom hadn't had this level of control over his magic since his Hogwarts days. How he had ever allowed the extent of degradation his magical control had suffered he would never know. Yes he had still been powerful, but he had essentially been throwing sledgehammers around when he wanted scalpels. He had been able to toss out crucios on a whim, but something as simple as a warming charm had given him issue. Especially if he was angry. Which was almost always. Thinking back that had played a large part in why he had kept Wormtail around. Anytime Nagini wanted a rock heated he had just ordered the rat to do it.

Nagini was another matter. Where had she gotten to? Tom didn't think the ritual had harmed her as he had found the other trinkets sitting in the room seemingly untouched. Well the ones that had not been previously destroyed. The diary still had a gaping hole and the ring was still broken and missing the stone. They had not taken additional damage though. It was possible with Nagini being a living horcrux that she had had an adverse reaction to the ritual, but Tom doubted this was the case. Potter had been behind Nagini's last disappearance perhaps he had something to do with this one.

As if summoned Tom felt that increasingly familiar mental nudge announcing Potter's presence.

Before Tom could acknowledge him and sounding entirely too bouncy Potter chimed in, _"Hiya Tom! How have you been holding up? Eat anymore tasty sandwiches?"_

Tom withheld yet another exasperated sigh, _"Potter please refrain from the juvenile antics."_

What could only be described as a mental pout assaulted him in tandem with Potter's response _"Now you just sound like Professor Snape."_

" _Ah yes. How is everybody's favorite potions master these days?"_

" _I'd have thought you would know better than I would. Him being one of your death eaters and all. I can only assume that he continues to skulk through the dungeons, imposing fear into each new generation of impressionable firsties."_

" _You've had no contact with him? I was under the impression that dear Severus had likely defected from the ranks."_

" _I've had little contact with anybody. Especially these last few months. If you are looking for a current events trivia partner you'd be better off looking elsewhere."_

Perhaps Potter really had not been in contact with Severus or perhaps he had picked up a thing or two from Dumbledore about avoiding the question. He was finding that he had difficulty judging Potter's intentions and the brat's emotions weren't clarifying matters. Tom decided to let the issue drop for now. It wouldn't do to alert Potter to his suspicions too soon.

" _Why have you contacted me Potter? Surely it was not to inquire about my preference in sandwich fillings."_

" _Sadly no. Last we talked I mentioned possibly meeting in a week or so to start going over the reform proposal. I was hoping we might set up a meeting."_

" _How long will this take Potter?"_

" _Hmm that depends. The basic overview shouldn't take more than a couple of hours, but if you have questions or want clarifications – and this is likely to happen – then we should probably assume multiple meetings over a few days."_

Curious despite himself Tom thought on his plans for the week. " _Tuesday around 2. Just apperate into the entrance hall. I'll make sure the wards allow you through."_

" _Sounds good. Should I bring along some sandwiches in case you need a snack while we talk?"_

" _Brat. If you even try Nimsey will have your head. She's very protective of the kitchen."_

" _You have a house elf? For some reason I cannot picture you tolerating having one around. I wonder why that would be? Oh yes the terrible temper and lack of-"_

" _Potter! Do not think of finishing that sentence. Yes I have a house elf. I am not about to do my own cooking and cleaning much less trust one of my death eaters to do it. I can only imagine what concoctions Wormtail would produce if he attempted to cook."_

Potter didn't immediately respond and Tom belatedly realized that the rat was probably not the best choice of conversation topics. Not that he cared about Potter's feelings, but he did not want to deal with an emotionally distraught or angry Potter ranting at him and flinging emotions around. However, once again Potter surprised him and didn't outwardly react to the comment. Although Tom could tell Potter's emotions were unsettled they were a jumbled mess and he couldn't pick out the specifics.

" _I'll see you Tuesday Tom. I'll try not to offend your house elf with sandwiches."_

As he seemed to do, Potter's presence vanished without preamble. Tom really could not quite get his head around this new Potter. The boy was so different than the last time they had met during the boy's fifth year. He had gotten reports regarding him during his sixth year, but afterwards Potter and his two friends had vanished, not returning for their final year. That was approaching three years ago now and something had obviously happened during the interim. That he had no idea was extremely irritating. He had heard nothing from his death eaters and they were under strict orders to bring Potter straight to him. So whatever had happened to the boy wonder was likely not directly related to his actions.

His two friends had vanished just as completely as Potter had. The boy's family allegedly had had no contact from any of them and the girls family had also up and disappeared. The prophet and that Skeeter women had had a field day when they left. Running stories that ranged from kidnapping to abandonment to a sordid love affair resulting in an illegitimate child. Some said they were in secret training. Others claimed they saw them in the most ridiculous situations. A passing old man winked at a wizard in the street of muggle London. It must be Potter in disguise. A witch finds a galleon lying in the street. It must be Potter trying to discreetly fund them. As the weeks passed the stories only got more sensationalist. One day Potter would save them all, the next he was plotting in some secret lair preparing to becoming the next dark lord. Each story had been more ridiculous than the one proceeding it.

As more time passed and the weeks became months and then years the paper published fewer stories about potter and the other parts of the golden trio. Many had concluded he was likely dead and their hope in his return had slowly dwindled. There were of course those out there who still believed he would sweep in on his white horse and rescue them, but judging by what he had seen of Potter so far Tom found this scenario unlikely. Potter looked like he was barely keeping himself alive much less fretting about being the hero of the people. No, Tom suspected that even if he was lying about everything else Potter sincerely intended to leave wizarding society when their business was concluded.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe.

"dialogue"  
" _mental dialogue"  
_ " **parsel"  
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 _AN: I'm back and mostly recovered from my trip. Thanks to all who reviewed, followed and favorited! I hope you continue to enjoy._

* * *

Tuesday rolled around and with it came Potter. Tom looked up from his desk as Potter came in behind Nimsey. Thankfully he did not appear to be toting sandwiches along. Neither of them needed the headache an upset house elf could trigger. Potter looked the same as before and Tom had to wonder about how he had been living up to this point to appear as if on the brink of starvation, but still be clean. He supposed magic could account for that. In truth, he was not entirely certain that he wanted to know. Regardless, "Potter. I see you chose to head my advice."

For a moment Potter just looked confused before a dawning realization and slight grin touched his face, "I'm well aware that house elves aren't to be underestimated. I have a friend who nearly killed me in their effort to save my life. If you say your elf will have my head over sandwiches then I believe it."

Only Potter would somehow get mixed up with a well-intentioned murderous house elf. Tom really did not want to know. He truly didn't, "Potter, what did you do that the house elf concluded the only way to save you was through your death?" Damn.

Potter got a slightly fond reminiscent look, "Oh you know how it is. It's like when young school children want to be friends. One kid punches another kid and the other kid gives him a sock and then they are besties forever."

Clearly Tom had overestimated Potter's mental state. He was obviously off his rocker. This was the person he had let piece his soul together. How had they ever pulled it off?

Potter took one look at Tom's face and promptly burst out in quiet laughter, "All right I might have abridged things just slightly. It was actually partially your fault you know. Dobby worked for the Malfoy's but hated them for obvious reasons. When he got word of Lucius' plans for your diary Dobby attempted to protect me by preventing me from going to Hogwarts my second year. He was just a bit overzealous in his attempts and caused some unfortunate accidents. It all culminated when I tricked Malfoy into freeing Dobby with a sock. I then made Dobby promise to not try and save my life again."

Though still not convinced of Potter's mental acumen at least he could picture something of the sort happening. Lucius was just lucky that he had already been punished for the events regarding his diary during Potter's second year. It was not a mistake the blonde was likely to ever repeat. He also suspected that the loss of his house elf was probably a sore spot for the proud Malfoy. Tom made a mental note to bring it up in their meeting later that week just to see his reaction.

It was then that Tom heard what sounded like discontent grumblings. Something about flailing around and disrupting sleep. Just as he placed the familiar voice a small head popped out from under Potter's cloak. How a snake of all things managed to look disgruntled and sleepy he would never understand. For a creature that didn't have facial expressions Nagini always seemed able to convey them well enough. Although he supposed that answered his question on her whereabouts and of course the culprit as ever was the golden boy himself.

Nagini finally seemed to wake herself up enough to take a look at their surroundings. She noticed Tom and froze. Slowly, she slithered off of Potter and across his desk, drawing herself up to face him. **"Tom! You've gone back to being pink and fleshy. Where are the pretty scales and why are your eyes round and unattractive again? You were majestic like a snake before and now you look soft."** As an afterthought she added, **"and squishy."** Then Nagini drooped in apparent disappointment.

A muffled choking sound drew his attention from his exasperating familiar back to Potter who looked to be desperately trying not to laugh. He was failing miserably. Tom aimed his most menacing glare at Potter, but if anything it just set the boy off again. Deliberately ignoring the brat he turned his attention back to Nagini. **"Nagini, you know this is how I am supposed to look.** **I am a human, not a snake."**

Nagini huffed, **"I don't understand why you would want to be."** Nagini slithered her way up to Tom's shoulders where she made a show of settling in. **"At least you are warm again. If you can't be pretty you'll have to be useful instead."**

Tom pinched his nose and looked over at the brat. Potter wasn't even making a token effort at this point. Tom realized that the only reason he hadn't heard Potter was because the boy was laughing so hard he was silent for lack of breath. As Potter convulsed in his chair Tom found himself appreciating that parseltongue was such a rare skill. If more people could have understood Nagini his fearsome reputation would have been in shambles. While his minions might believe Nagini's hissing to sound menacing, he knew better. Unfortunately, now so did Potter.

"Potter, pull yourself together before I crucio you."

Potter made an effort to start breathing again and finally managed some semblance of composure. That is if the random bouts of chuckling were ignored. "I'm not even sorry. She's been nagging me all week. I'm glad to see that even you are subject to her almighty scrutiny. She was rather worried about you and wouldn't leave me alone about it until I contacted you to make sure you were all right."

"Why did you take my familiar with you in the first place?"

Potters looked slightly embarrassed, but answered, "Ah well after the ritual you were out cold and your house elf looked a bit overwhelmed with everything. I wasn't sure how long you would be out and didn't know how Nagini was normally taken care of. So I just kind of picked her up and took her with me. When I had her before she was in a magical sleep since I didn't want you to notice her missing or worse who had her. Having her awake and talking this week has been an...experience."

That's right, Potter had captured Nagini before this whole ordeal. It galled him to admit that he hadn't noticed her absence. To be honest he had largely been ignoring her the past few months and had left her primarily to Wormtail to take care of. Which brought up the point of why the rat had failed to mention her disappearance. It looked like he had a rat to interrogate very soon.

"Potter how did you manage to capture Nagini the first time?"

If anything Potter looked even more embarrassed at this question. "If I said a carefully thought out and very clever plan that was perfectly executed would you believe me?"

Tom leveled his most disbelieving look at the boy wonder, "I've met you Potter. No."

Potter rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, "Well let's just pretend that's what happened and leave it there. Trust me you're probably better off not knowing."

Tom eyed him, mentally debating with himself if the knowledge was worth the headache it would undoubtedly bring. If Potter was willing to explain the house elf debacle, but this gave him pause then maybe he should just wait until later and ask Nagini what she knew.

"Fine. I will allow this topic to drop for now, but do not believe I will forget that you stole my familiar and my horcrux Potter. However, in the interest of time it is likely prudent that we move on with our intended business."

Just as the last time the proposal was brought up Potter instantly sobered. Reaching into that same pouch from the ritual Potter pulled out what appeared to be a muggle manila folder. It looked practically empty. From his vantage point Tom couldn't tell if there was anything in it at all. Once again he wondered about why Potter would go to such extremes just to have him read this. Potter carefully put the folder on the desk and just looked at it for a moment. Then with a small sigh he slowly slid it across the desk to sit in front of Tom.

"If you have any questions or want any of the references listed just ask. I have everything with me. I have the originals and that," he nodded towards the folder in front of Tom, "is the only copy. I'll let you get to it then." With that Potter pulled out a book from somewhere, settled into his chair and started to read.

Tom looked down at the folder. There was nothing on the front. Nothing that marked it as anywhere near as important as Potter's actions made it out to be. He picked up the folder and opened it. One page. There was only a single page. His theory about Potter returning his sanity only to drive him mad again was starting to seem more and more plausible. Then he started to read. Oh. Now that was clever. The folder was enchanted. This page was merely an instruction set on how to use it. Tom closed the folder and thought about a table of contents. He opened the folder to a new list. Very clever indeed. This was likely the work of that muggleborn friend of Potter's. Tom had to reluctantly admit that muggleborn or not he was impressed. Thinking on all the reports and paperwork he usually had to deal with, perhaps he would convince Potter to give him a few of these.

Tom looked at the first item on the contents list and decided that an overview was probably the best place to start. He settled back in his chair, closed and opened the folder again, then began to read.

* * *

Almost despite himself, Harry had found out that he rather enjoyed muggle fantasy novels. He understood that reading about people casting magic with all manner of wild styles or systems when you could actually cast magic yourself might be a bit odd. He found it rather fun. One day he had picked up a book he once saw Hermione read as part of her "recreational" reading – and really no matter what she claimed every book to her was recreational – and he had been hooked. Much to Ron's chagrin, fantasy novels had quickly become an outlet for him while the trio had been on the run.

For whatever reason the wizarding world seemed nearly incapable of writing decent fiction. He didn't know if it was how commonplace strange happenings were or if something about growing up with magic killed off not only their common sense, but their whimsy. The only good fiction he'd come across that originated from the magical world were the children's stories. Though as he was all too aware, most of those stories were just rehashings of much older myths.

"All of it."

Harry paused in his reading caught off guard. He looked up at the other sitting across from him. It had been a couple hours since he had given Tom the folder and he had forgotten the man was there. "Excuse me?"

Tom clasped his hands in front of him and leveled a look at Harry, "You said you had the referenced material with you. I want to see all of it."

Harry just stared back for a moment slightly dumbfounded. His brain eventually kicked back into action and he realized what the Dark Lord was asking. "All of it. There is quite a lot. Are you sure you really want see it?"

Harry hadn't known that Tom's unimpressed look could reach that level. Huh. Guess he really wanted all of it. With some trepidation Harry reached back into his mokeskin pouch and pulled out Hermione's old beaded bag. He had once asked her how he could store an expanded space in another expanded space and 30 minutes into her mind-bending lecture he decided to just smile, nod and accept that it worked. Somehow. He then reached into the bag and pulled out one book. Then he pulled out two more. He kept pulling out books and papers and slowly started to fill the empty space on Tom's desk. After a few minutes Tom's desk looked more like an expensive, overladen shelf and less like a place to get work done. Between Hermione and Remus the two had compiled a significant amount of research. All of it was an awful lot.

He watched as Tom stared impassively at the small mountain of research and notes. Harry really wished he knew what was running through the man's mind. Tom must have repaired his occlumency shields because Harry hadn't felt the slightest peep from the man for a few days now. Finally the Dark Lord looked up from the pile, "Is this what you have been doing all this time Potter? Compiling all of this information?"

Harry tried not to shift nervously, "Mostly. When we first started we were just looking for your horcruxes. Being on the run like we were left us with a lot of down time though. We couldn't just pop outside our wards on a whim to see a movie or anything whenever we didn't know where to look next. So we were basically stuck wherever we had set up that night. Being only the three of us, we eventually started to talk about pretty much everything. Over time we started discussing how things had come to this point which led to more discussion on what could have been done differently. It was mostly idle musings at the time. Then we discovered some plans of Dumbledore's we weren't meant to know about and our priorities shifted a touch. We kept looking for your horcruxes, but we started a side project. By the end of the first year we had gathered all of the horcruxes barring the cup and Nagini."

"The next year was almost entirely dedicated to our project. By that point the ministry and the Order had joined you in looking for us so research wasn't exactly easy. We did managed to contact a few select people who weren't likely to drag me back and toss me at you in some misguided hope that I would fulfill that stupid prophecy. Apparently that is what both Moody and the minister have been planning to do should they find me. Anyway we used those contacts to help gather what we couldn't. The three of us spent the bulk of our time working on the proposal. It's essentially everything we want Wizarding Britain to be. I told you it is our reformation plan. We have everything detailed from what things should change, why those changes are a good idea and a timeline to help ease the populace in one piece at a time."

Harry wasn't really sure what to say from there. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to say more than that. The months following the completion of their proposal were something he tried very hard not to think on. Thinking back over the last couple of years in general tended to leave him feeling drained and weary. They had put too much into this proposal to not at least try, but he just didn't have it in him to attempt to head the effort. He couldn't bring himself to truly care about the wizarding world or their fate anymore. They had pushed so much over the years. Heaving unreasonable expectations on a child and after the most recent incident he had finally just had enough.

When he stumbled across the method to heal the soul or more accurately had it shoved into his hands, he had come up with one last reckless plan and decided that regardless of the outcome he was finished afterwards. Tom Riddle as he used to be, before the insanity that was Voldemort, was the only living person Harry could think of that might have a chance at actually changing things. He honestly hadn't expected to get this far. He knew that some, probably most, of the suggestions went against the Dark Lord's regime, but he kept thinking back to the brilliant mind that was Tom Riddle and hoped he could persuade the man with sound, logical arguments. Or just through shear stubbornness. Whichever worked.

Tom idly sifted through some of the papers and books on the desk while he tried to collect his thoughts. He had only read the overview, but it had been enlightening. At the very least he now understood what had occupied Potter during his unprecedented absence. Looking over the mountain of resources Potter had dumped onto his desk he felt his hopes dwindle. He had held a vague hope that many of the points brought up were nothing more than fanciful conjecture. Among a slew of controversial topics, it was the information detailing the origins of muggleborns and familial magics that would probably be the hardest for the pure bloods of their society to accept. The implications of just how wrong the notions of blood purity were would not sit well with many of the ancient and noble houses.

"Potter, you cannot truly believe that you will be able to just waltz into the Wizengamot and announce that bloodline traits are manifestations of creature blood, squibs are the result of inbreeding, and muggleborns are those squibs' future offspring generations down the line and expect it to go well."

"Of course not." Potter then appeared to think on it, "Although that would be funny. I wonder how many of those old goats I could get to faint in horror before they kicked me out."

"They'd more likely have you committed."

Potter waved it off, "Regardless. I had no intention of waltzing into the Wizengamot. You get to do it."

Magically enforced cease fire. He must refrain from torturing the whelp within an inch of his life. Tom took a deliberate breath and released it. "Explain."

Here the boy started to look a bit nervous. That could not be a good sign. "Well I have a plan of sorts, but I don't think you are going to like it much. Or at all really. Actually it's probably best that you remember you can't try and kill me right now..." He trailed off obviously reluctant to continue. Definitely not a good sign.

Tom narrowed his eyes and fixed a glare towards the brat, "Spit it out Potter."

Potter avoided eye contact, but continued, "Right. Well essentially my plan is to kill off Voldemort." He paused and eyed Tom like he was expecting him to explode. On his part Tom was exercising his considerable will to keep his magic from lashing out with his anger. He managed to shoot Potter a look promising a painful demise if the brat did not hurry up.

Apparently getting the hint Potter rushed on, "We stage the public demise of Voldemort by my hand. In the aftermath I use the all the fame and glory and whatnot to lay the groundwork. You come up with an alias and I go on and on to the press about all the help you have provided me over the past couple of years and how instrumental you were to my taking down Voldemort. I could never have done it without you and your guidance and so on. I think if we stage it correctly and you pull in the help of some of your more politically active death eaters we could set you up to be the next minister. Of course, your death eaters would have to become a bit less overt in their actions. We might even need to setup the capture of some of your more disruptive members, but really that could only help your image."

"Then we combine both your allies and mine and sort of ride the waves of goodwill to lay inroads into new policies in the Wizengamot. We also work with the board of governors and McGonagall to begin restructuring the curriculum at Hogwarts. By the time people start questioning what's been going on hopefully the foundations of our plan will be established enough that they either won't care or can't do anything to stop it."

Potter gave a sort of hapless shrug, "That's the gist of it anyway."

* * *

Harry was starting to worry. Tom hadn't so much as twitched for the last 20 minutes. He just sat there like a statue. As far as Harry knew Tom could be catatonic. Welp, he had officially broken a dark lord. That had to be some kind of special achievement. Perhaps he could get away with drawing one of those twirly villainy mustaches on his face. He'd have to make sure he was long gone before the other noticed. Otherwise oath or not Tom would likely try to kill him. Probably worth it though. Maybe he could animate it to swirl whenever Tom's hand came close to his face. Pranking Lord Voldemort. Sirius would have been so proud.

Tom stirred just as harry was pondering if he could conjure a sharpie. Masking his disappointment at a prank cut short, Harry watched as the other man collected himself.

Tom was looking at him as if he wanted nothing more than to AK himself and end the misery, "Potter is this how all your misadventures go? You come up with a completely ludicrous idea, do little to no planning, then just run in and cause chaos until everything somehow works out in your favor?"

Harry thought back on some of the more memorable Hogwarts years and inwardly thought that Tom might be onto something with that statement. "More or less. Actually I thought this plan was pretty decent."

Tom gave him another dirty look, "Your plan is to kill me, become more famous, make me minister and then we fix magical Britain."

Harry thought it over, "Yeah. Sounds about right."

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose, "How you have managed to survive all these years is a miracle."

Harry couldn't contain his flinch at that. Luckily Tom seemed too preoccupied with what looked like some form of self pity. He was staring up at the ceiling as if he was praying to all the gods to make it stop. "Are you upset that I kept getting one up on you all those times or are you upset because you think my plan could work?"

There was that scathing look again. Tom really was good at that one. Probably something to do with having red eyes. Adds to the menace somehow. "If you could call that a plan. If I am being generous it could maybe be considered a rough outline. Also you did not, as you say, get one up on me. You have the luck of the devil and I was far from my best during our meetings."

Harry snorted at the other's choice of words. Meetings. Like they had come together over a cup of tea and biscuits and discussed the weather instead of possessions, death threats, and running. Lots of running. At least on Harry's part there was lots of running. Tom, the arrogant sod, always seemed to stand there monologuing as Harry was busy fleeing for his life. Although apparently he now lived in a world gone mad. Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort were indeed sitting in a room drinking tea and holding civil conversation. Some days he woke up in the morning and wondered how his life had come to this. Devil's luck indeed.

"Now you are just nitpicking. Do you think the plan is feasible? Would your big bad dark lord ego be able to handle the death of your moniker?" Maybe he'll label that face as unimpressed number three. Apparently Tom had quite the range for condescending looks.

Tom maintained his glare for a moment longer, perhaps to drive the point in, then he relaxed just a bit, but he suddenly looked rather worn. "I do not know Potter. This," he gestured at the large pile on his desk, "is a lot to take in at once. I will require time to go through your proposal and research in detail. I will probably have to do my own research. If I am going to confront the pure bloods with something like this I must be sure there is no room for doubt. They will not take this lightly and I am yet convinced myself. As for your little scheme, it might have some merit, but it too needs the proper consideration. If we are to do this we are not charging in blindly like you seem so prone to do."

Harry conceded his point. It really was a lot. They had had multiple people spending over a year working on that and there were points that Harry himself still had difficulty coming to terms with. One afternoon was nowhere near enough time. "You might not have gotten that far, but there are a lot of points in there that will appeal to the pure bloods. There is a section regarding the traditions of the Olde Ways, many of which were banned for political reasons. There are plans to repeal the bans and reintegrate them back into society. We even wrote some of it into our curriculum overhaul for Hogwarts. You'll also find plans to separate ourselves even more from the muggle world instead of risky attempts at integration. Both things I doubt you'll have any trouble convincing them to support."

Tom nodded thoughtfully, "True, but like I said I need time. Leave all this with me for now so that I may go over it thoroughly. You can run off and do whatever it is you do when you aren't here pestering me."

Harry would have responded, but the other man was already engrossed in reading. Amused, he decided he would just show himself out. He wandered out and back the way he was led in. When he reached the entry hall he turned on his heel and disappeared.

* * *

He arrived back in Grimmauld place. Harry looked around at the familiar house, even more decrepit now than when the order had first claimed it. As much as he hated the house, he couldn't deny it had been useful. After they had started their research in earnest it took all of two minutes before they realized what an asset having the Black library would be for them. Hermione had taken it upon herself to find a way to reclaim the building from the Order without giving away their position to the death eaters that had still occasionally lurked nearby. Though the latter had mostly stopped after a year or so the order never tried to reestablish the house as a proper headquarters.

The solution had been a sort of temporary ward to maintain the house's invisibility. It was too draining to be held for long, but it was sufficient for them to drop the Fidelus and reapply it with Harry as the secret keeper. It had to be done quickly before the Order had a chance to notice the falling of the first charm and react to it. They only managed it because they had spent so much time practicing the Fidelus charm on another property the year previous. Harry grimaced, thinking back on all their initial failed attempts at the spell. They definitely would never have made it work on the first try otherwise.

Harry continued through the house and headed upstairs. He paused for a moment at the door to the room Ron and Hermione had claimed for themselves. They had finally gotten together after Harry, thoroughly frustrated with all the tension and bickering between them, had essentially blurted out that they liked each other and to please shut up and go snog or something. It might not have been exactly tactful, but to be fair, they had still been hopping around forests and setting up camp at the time. Harry had never done well without extended moments of privacy, a holdover from all the time spent with the Dursleys. He believed he had held up rather well all things considered.

He looked at the door for a moment longer. Then he turned away and continued on to his room. Perhaps he could finish that book he had been reading. He had reached a pretty good part before Tom had interrupted him.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe.

"dialogue"  
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* * *

Tom had certainly not been expecting this. He sat back in his seat and stared at the impressive amount of books and notes before him. How had Potter managed this? There was information and books here that should not have been accessible to hardly anybody much less a ragtag group on the run. Rare books, ministry reports, even case studies from the Department of Mysteries were included in the reference materials. Either Potter had some truly impressive contacts or he was far more cunning than he got credit for.

Regardless of how they were procured, the research painted a fairly grim view of the future of Wizarding Britain should change not be implemented. If Potter was correct and the evidence was building that he was, then without the muggleborns Wizarding Britain would no longer have a sustainable population. There simply were not enough old families left after the past two wars to maintain numbers and avoid excessive inbreeding. Potter's projections showed that there was a strong correlation between inbreeding in pure blood lines and the number of squibs born. Their society would practically die out within a handful of generations.

Add on the likelihood that muggleborns were descendants of exiled squibs, then it was more than probable that there were heirs to old, dead houses running around without an inkling to their heritage. If they could teach them wizarding history and customs and have them claim their lordships, they could inject much needed new blood into their society. The Wizengamot numbers had been dwindling as the houses died out and most of the current members were stubborn old men too set in their ways. They wouldn't understand the benefits of change even as they watched their society crumble around them.

Interestingly enough, this probably also explained why the first metamorphmagus born to the Black line in recent memory was a half blood. Also why himself, Potter, and Dumbledore were noticeably more powerful than their peers. The injection of new blood into old lines revitalized the magic. His mother's family had been so inbred they could barely function. He was probably lucky that Merope hadn't ended up siring offspring with her brother. Not that he was grateful to his father. Not being a sibling/cousin to his mother was hardly a difficult standard to meet.

It was now even more imperative that he reaffirmed the support of Lucius and Severus. If he was going to sway the pure bloods he would need the support of Lucius first. The other man was too much of a pure blood figurehead, a canny one at that, to try to push without his full support. Severus would be needed for heritage tests and if they did follow through on Potter's ridiculous scheme Severus would be invaluable. It looked like he could not delay those particular meetings any longer.

Tom rose from his seat intent on a light dinner and sleep. Nagini stirred at the movement, **"It has been awhile master. I was growing concerned that you had forgotten me."**

Tom stroked her head as he traversed the hallway, **"I apologize Nagini. Things have been hectic. I hope your time spent with the boy was not too traumatic for you."**

Nagini let out a content hiss, **"He scratched in just the right way and gave me many juicy rats."** She thought a moment, **"He liked to watch me eat though. I did not mind, but I thought most people disliked such things."**

Tom paused mid step to look her, **"He enjoyed watching you swallow rats whole?"**

 **"Yes, he would cut off one of the rats' toes before giving it to me and then watched as I ate it. He looked a bit like you do when you are having fun punishing your followers. When I asked, he said that I looked especially fierce and majestic. I like him Master. You should have him over more so that he can praise me."**

Tom resumed his walk. Well that explained it. Who knew that Potter had such a vindictive streak though. Tom idly wondered what Potter would do if he got his hands on the actual Wormtail. It might be worth finding out even if it meant Tom had to find a new outlet for his frustrations. Leaving Wormtail to the golden boy's whims would be a fitting punishment for the rat for losing Nagini and also failing to report it.

Unfortunately, any confrontation between Potter and Wormtail would have to wait. Tomorrow he had a potions master to interrogate. He had no doubt that the conversation would prove enlightening.

* * *

Severus had been having a pleasant day. It was the Easter Holidays and he was working on one of his own personal brews. Nobody was around to disturb him. No McGonagall asking about something or other for the school. No order members giving him suspicious stares and potions demands. For once he was almost enjoying himself. That was why he was not at all surprised when his mark burned and brought an abrupt halt to his small moment of peace.

In fluid motions, Severus put his potion in stasis, donned his death eater robes and swiftly left the school. As he strode across the castle grounds on his way to the gate, Severus sent a quick patronus to alert the Headmistress of his absence. He reached the gates and with a precise turn and a quiet crack he was gone.

He arrived in the familiar entrance of the Dark Lord's manor. Sparing only a brief glance to assess his surroundings, he followed the pull of his mark through the halls in the direction of the Dark Lord's study. Upon arrival, he knocked on the door and was promptly granted entrance.

The only outward sign Severus showed of his considerable shock upon seeing the Dark Lord's new visage was the slightest faltering in his step. Inwardly he was already rapidly cataloging the changes and trying to determine possible reasons and methods for this change to have occurred. He gave a bow and waited for the other to address him.

"Hello Severus," The Dark Lord indicated the chairs across from him with a slight movement of his hand, "take a seat. I am sure you are curious as to the reason I have called you here."

That would be one way to put it. He had his current list of potions to brew and they would not be ready for another week. Severus could not think of any other need the Dark Lord would have for him. He mentally started reviewing his occlumency shields. Unexpected calls rarely bode well for him. "Yes, my Lord. Your requested potions are not yet complete and I have had no contact with the Order since the holidays began."

Severus found himself fixed by assessing red eyes, "Indeed, I have not called you here today for either of those reasons. Instead I have a third matter to discuss with you."

"If I might ask, what matter would that be my Lord?" Severus was beginning to feel a sense of foreboding.

"Harry Potter."

The foreboding feeling doubled. What had that brat gone and done this time? "Harry Potter my Lord? He has not been heard of or seen in almost three years."

Those unwavering red eyes continued to bore holes through his skull. The other man laced his fingers in front of him and leaned forward, "I have recently found reason to believe that Potter is not as gone or as inactive as he was thought to be. In fact, I believe he has been very busy trying to find a method to kill me. Tell me Severus, what do you know of Potter's actions these past years?"

If Severus lived through this he was going to strangle that idiot boy. He had had little contact with the boy and his two friends since they went on the run and none at all in the last half a year or so. Regardless, he had a fairly good idea on what the dunderheads had been up to and had provided them materials and potions on the occasions he could safely manage it. That the Dark Lord was asking about Potter now was not a good sign. He obviously knew something, but how much Severus was unsure. He would have to tread carefully.

"I have heard very little regarding the brat. I have reason to believe that he had at one point been in contact with the wolf and the female auror before they were both killed nearly a year ago. If he has been in contact with any other members I do not know. I am fairly certain that if Moody had the faintest idea where Potter was he would not stop until the boy was brought back. Not that I would be informed if he had been found and captured." That last part was true enough. If anything Moody had become even more paranoid since Dumbledore's death and Potter's disappearance. The retired auror had never trusted Severus and since taking over the Order had tried to push him out as much as possible while still keeping a close watch over him. Not that this stopped Severus from finding out the goings on of the Order, but it was a source of constant annoyance.

"Ah yes, the old man's death. I can imagine that having only your account of events to rely on does not sit well the that paranoid fool."

Severus did not know where this was leading. Had the Dark Lord somehow found out that Potter had been witness to Dumbledore's death? Potter had never told the Order who had killed Dumbledore and the boy had gone so far as to deny his own presence at the event. He had caught up to Severus that night, hidden under that cursed invisibility cloak, and told him not to relinquish his position as a spy. Then the arrogant brat had run off somewhere without another word. He had fully expected the boy to go crying to the world about his betrayal to the light, but instead he had kept quiet. It was infuriating that he had yet to get a satisfying answer out of the insufferable brat regarding his silence. There had been little opportunity to wring the information out of him as direct contact was unacceptably reckless.

"It does not my Lord. Moody is convinced that I am withholding information regarding Dumbledore's death. Most of the Order were mistrustful of me before and are even more so now. I am afraid there is nothing I can do to improve the situation."

Severus continued to watch the other sitting across from him. It was growing increasingly apparent that the changes were not merely superficial. The Dark Lord had yet to even give indication that he might curse him whereas previously he would have declared Severus' inability to gain the order's trust as a gross failure. This calm demeanor was unsettling. A rational Dark Lord was potentially a much more dangerous threat than he had been previous. Not even Potter's infernal luck would likely be able to save him from the man across the table.

Tom matched stares with the unflappable potions master. This game needed to end. Severus was far to carful to let anything slip and he needed full answers to his questions. Dancing around each other would quickly lead nowhere and more persuasive methods would likely prove just as ineffective. The man was far too good at being a spy. Perhaps he could borrow a method from Potter to get the professor to relent.

"Severus, frankly I am suspicious of you and your true allegiances. I believe that you have not truly allied yourself with the dark for a very long time now. Possibly since the death of Lily Potter. No doubt you are well aware that the chances of you exiting out of this room intact are low. However, before I dispose of you I propose a small trade. You can consider it my recognition of your skills and services up to this point. A truth for a truth. We each ask one question and we each give one full answer."

To give him proper credit, Severus did not so much as blink at the statement. He supposed the man had prepared for such an eventuality. As pessimistic as the potions master was, he probably found it surprising that he had survived this long.

With the same efficient calm as always, Severus replied, "Very well. I suppose you intend to enforce the truth?"

"Of course. We will use oaths. I am afraid I cannot rely on potions due to your considerable skill in the subject." They each made their oath and Tom continued, "I will be asking the first question as I do not trust you to not try and trigger the oath's conditions to avoid answering."

"Why did you kill Dumbledore?" There were better questions he could ask, but this had been bothering him since he came to the conclusion of Severus' treachery. Besides it was not his question that was important here. It was Severus receiving an answer he knew to be true upon which the direction of this whole meeting hinged. He might as well indulge his curiosity in the meantime.

Severus looked steadfastly back at Tom as he curtly responded, "There were a myriad of reasons. Simply put, I did not want Draco to become a murderer. It is obvious that he does not have the required disposition and the act would likely have broken the boy. Additionally, Dumbledore was already dying. He was suffering from a curse of your making that would have soon seen him to a painful demise. Lastly, I killed him because he requested it of me. He desired to die on his own terms. Dying to protect an innocent child while also solidifying my position in your ranks was his decision."

Tom pondered this new information. It was not all that surprising when he thought it over. The bit about it being his curse was interesting though. He had not personally placed a curse on the old man so it must have been something he had set up in the past. If the old coot was onto his horcruxes then it was- ah. It was the ring. When Potter had brought the ring he had noted that it had been destroyed, but not given any thought to the method. Dumbledore must have been caught by the shriveling curse and managed to delay the effects. While he admitted that was an impressive feat in itself, it did not change the fact that the old man was finally gone.

"Very well. I believe it is now your turn Severus. I advise you to choose carefully."

Severus did not wait long, "What did you do to regain this appearance and your sanity?"

Ah reliable Severus. Dumbledore apparently was not the only one who wanted to end things on his own terms. Severus, ever the spy, was trying to gain one last piece of information to send back to his ungrateful allies. Tom couldn't help the smug satisfaction that arose at the predictability of the situation.

"I used a ritual to piece my soul back together with the full, willing cooperation of Harry Potter."

* * *

Harry was abruptly jerked from his reading by a loud bang. His first reaction was that somehow the Fidelius had failed and the order had found him. He then realized he hadn't felt the charm drop. He hurried from the room in the direction of the entranceway and the now screaming portrait of Sirius' mother. There were only a small number of people with access to the house and he could think of none that would be here. Except one. Harry paled as he rounded the last corner and confirmed just who was standing before him.

In hindsight he probably should have warned Snape about his recent contact with the Dark Lord. He hadn't seen the man this obviously irate since the lesson both he and Neville had exploded their cauldrons near simultaneously and the resulting sludge coated the entire front of the room. Along with Snape's desk. Also Snape himself. The professor had been decidedly less than pleased.

The potions master whorled around to face him, sneer already in place. "Potter!" He grabbed Harry and unceremoniously dragged him out of earshot of the still wailing portrait and down to the kitchen. When they arrived, the man turned and fixed his glare back on Harry. His voice dropped low, full of menace, "Of all the idiotic, arrogant, reckless actions you have pulled over the years, you have somehow managed to top them all this time. Contacting the Dark Lord and performing a ritual to make him stronger is imbecilic beyond what even I thought you capable of. I would ask what you were thinking, but since you obviously were not I will not bother. Instead, you will tell me what could possibly make you think this would be a good idea. If you do not, I assure you that you will not enjoy the consequences."

At that silence fell. Harry shifted nervously, feeling very much like he was a student again faced with the full force of Snape's ire. Perhaps he could make a run for it. Then again Snape's expression was promising to chop him into potions ingredients if he didn't comply. He rubbed the back of his head and shifted his weight for easier fleeing. Just in case. He did not doubt that the professor was angry now and his answer would only worsen matters.

"Well, I had the finished proposal and I was sort of at a loss of how to go about enacting it. I realized that Scrimgeour would never go for it even if I was able to talk to him without him trying to apprehend me the moment he saw me. The rest of the ministry and the Wizengamot are essentially useless when it comes to implementing change or doing anything at all really. There was nothing I could personally do unless I pulled a miracle and somehow both killed Voldemort and survived. Which seemed pretty unlikely." He paused to assess Snape's reaction. He would have been better off studying a statue. The statue would probably have had more expression on its face. Harry idly wondered if Snape's eyes had always been black or if the man had changed them somehow just to make himself more unreadable and intimidating. It did not seem an unreasonable assumption. After all, he was positive that cloak was charmed to billow.

Resigning himself for the inevitable fallout, he continued, "Then I started to think about who would be capable of changing things. When I first thought of Tom Riddle it was just jokingly. The idea stuck around though. It kept popping up every time I ran into another dead end. No matter what I did, I couldn't quite let it go. Eventually I found myself seriously considering the idea. By that point I had already come across the method to return the soul fragments and I realized that it might actually be possible to bring back Tom Riddle." He shrugged helplessly, "One thing led to another and here we are."

Snape did not know where to start. He debated killing the brat to save the world from the chaos that was Harry Potter. He was now certain that the boy would be the end of them all. What was most infuriating was that the imbecile got away with it time and time again. Potter should be dead many times over. His reckless heroics should have exploded in his face like so many of his cauldrons in class. His contacting the Dark Lord should have resulted in nothing less than his capture and demise. Yet here they both stood, alive and unharmed and there was a rational Dark Lord on the loose who was apparently intent on some form of cooperation with the boy. If Severus were a lesser man he would have found an isolated corner in which to wallow in self pity.

Instead he pinned Potter with his most scathing glare, "Your recklessness truly knows no bounds does it? You risked everything with this little scheme of yours. Once again failing to recognize the consequences of your actions and their impact on others. What would you have done if you had failed and been captured? What would become of your little friends then? They would not have been allowed to simply walk away unscathed. You nearly handed over the wizarding world to a madman and you have the audacity to stand there and shrug it off like it is nothing!"

"Enough."

It was said quietly, but there was a weary weight to the word that was enough to catch Severus' attention. He paused in his berating of the boy and looked at Potter. For the first time since his arrival he truly took in Potter's appearance. Severus was suddenly struck with the realization that Potter no longer appeared as almost a perfect copy of his father. Despite still being a year or so younger than his father had been at the time of his death, the son looked the older of the two. Not too mention James had never been that unhealthily pale and skinny. It was the eyes though that really stemmed his tirade. They were still the same vibrant green of Lily's, but there was something else. They looked tired in a way Lily's never had. Lily's eyes were never meant to look like that. Confronted with those eyes, Snape felt his remaining strength drain away from him leaving him feeling empty. He felt too old and too worn.

Unexpectedly, Potter did not get angry. He did not start yelling and whining about how Snape was wrong and Potter knew what he was doing. He did not even look especially upset. This calm Potter was almost as off putting as a rational Dark Lord had been. The silence between them stretched.

Potter eventually let out a small sigh and gestured towards the kitchen table. Then without any other acknowledgement, he turned to the stove and went about preparing tea.

Normally, Severus would be furious that Potter would presume to order him around, but the events of the day were starting to wear on him and he found he was too exhausted to bother. He was getting too old for this war, never mind that he was only forty. Severus accepted the tea that Potter handed him and they both sat at the table in silence while they drank.

After a time, Severus broke the silence, "Potter where are your friends? I had expected them to come running to defend you against every accusation I could throw at you no matter how deserved they might be."

The boy took another sip of his tea, "They aren't here. I'm the only one staying at Grimmauld right now." He put his cup down, "Besides you aren't wrong with your accusations. I'm well aware that what I did goes beyond reckless."

Snape sneered, "Yet that apparently did not stop you from proceeding."

Potter met his gaze, "It didn't. Tell me Professor, if Voldemort were to win the war tomorrow what would happen? How much would truly change from where we are now? Most of the muggleborns have already fled the country or at least hidden themselves away in the muggle world. The pure bloods have long since held most of the positions of power in our society. The government has been corrupt since well before this war began. It was only Professor Dumbledore's positions and leadership that stemmed the worst of it for so long. British wizarding society is already poised to collapse in on itself. Voldemort would have just sped up the process."

The boy took another sip of tea. "By the time he had taken Britain and set his sights elsewhere it is likely that other countries would have finally rallied against him. There wouldn't be enough people left in Britain to put up much of a fight after all."

Severus did not let it show on his face, but he was stunned. This was not the Potter he knew. Potter was supposed to be full of self righteous fury and stubborn arrogance. This cold calculated approach did not fit with everything he knew of the boy. The boy he knew would never have considered losing and potentially letting innocents suffer or die just to hasten the inevitable. He would have fought tooth and nail to the bitter end to save even people he disliked.

"Potter you would really allow innocents to be harmed?"

Potter gave a wry smile, "Are there really innocents left professor? Those that have stayed behind seem to fall one of two ways. Many still expect me, a teenager, to swoop in and save them while they cower at home doing nothing to help themselves. They toss accusations at the ministry and myself that enough isn't being done and deem that sufficient action. The rest don't seem all that upset about the changes Voldemort promises them."

Potter got up to make more hot water, but he continued without pause, "On the other hand let's say Voldemort was defeated tomorrow. He falls at the culmination of some big battle and Scrimgeour is still the current minister. Or if not Scrimgeour another person like him. We'll be fanciful and even say Voldemort died by my hand. I've been absent a long time now, but I am still technically very young and my publicly recognized mentor has been dead for years. How long do you think it would take Scrimgeour to try and capitalize on a situation like that? Even better for him if I died in the process. He could potentially do almost as much damage as Voldemort might have. The backlash against anything and everything possibly labeled dark would be eagerly championed by him and the public would happily follow. Dark creatures and families would fare little better than muggleborns might have under Voldemort's rule."

Those eyes, bearing shadows that Lily's never had, turned back onto him, "Where does that leave us professor? From my perspective it's a loss either way. Can you really blame me for trying to find a different option? No matter how far fetched? No matter how reckless?"

Snape didn't respond for a long while. Harry took another sip of his tea while he waited for the man to gather his thoughts. Tom must have really thrown his old professor for a loop earlier. The man was being nearly civil. Or he started being nearly civil once he had stopped yelling anyway.

Everything he had told the potions master was true. Harry had long since come to the conclusion that Wizarding Britain was effectively doomed if something drastic wasn't done. However, he wasn't being entirely forthright on his reasons for the particular choice he had made. He did think Tom Riddle stood the best chance at preventing their ruin, but he also had personal reasons that had driven him. Mostly they centered around the horcrux in his scar. Snape did not need to know that little tidbit however.

Finally the other man fixed his gaze on Harry, "What of the prophecy?"

There were not enough swear words in existence to properly express his feelings regarding that thrice damned piece of bad poetry that hack of a women spouted out all those years ago. Regardless, that was not what Snape was asking.

"I personally consider the prophecy fulfilled. Or at the very least nearly fulfilled. With as vague as the wording is, the prophecy could be interpreted in multiple ways. The most recent example being the restoration of Tom Riddle's soul. If we take it a step further and publicly kill off the Voldemort persona, you could possibly consider that my vanquishing of the Dark Lord. The whole lived versus survived thing could also be read as more a commentary on quality of life than actually being physically dead. Instead it could be looked at as if one of is merely surviving than we both are only surviving. I don't think either of us have spent the last few years doing much that could be called recreational after all. Professor McGonagall was right when she called divination a wooly subject."

Harry paused a moment uncertain if he should continue, "I think that the Headmaster had been fighting a losing war for too long and chose to interpret the prophecy in a way that gave him the most hope. He was a brilliant man, but he was old even then and he had a great many people looking to him for guidance. Then the prophecy came along when things looked the bleakest and he latched onto it. I'm not certain if he ever truly allowed himself to consider the alternatives or that he might be wrong."

Harry hoped that bringing up Professor Dumbledore didn't set the other man off again. Ron, Hermione and him had spent many restless nights going over that prophecy and picking it apart word by word. He realized he was also choosing the interpretation most convenient to him, but if they were ever going to move forward with their plans the prophecy needed to be behind them. Nothing would ever work out with that cloud of doom and gloom hovering over their heads. He was actually surprised that Tom had yet to to bring it up. He would have to ask the man about it the next time they talked.

Snape started to massage his temples, "Potter you are still a reckless fool with all the brains of a flobberworm. You rely too much on luck. Though some of your points might have," the potions master sneered, "a modicum of merit. I cannot condone such impulsive behavior. For all of our sakes I hope this plan of yours does not blow up on us spectacularly."

Here the man stood, "If I stay here any longer I am afraid that your stupidity might spread like a disease. I shall be taking my leave."

Harry followed the man to the fireplace and watched him light a flame with a quick flick of his wand. Before the professor threw in the floo power, he turned back to Harry. He looked as though he were struggling with himself for the briefest moment.

"Potter, why did you not tell anyone who killed Dumbledore? How did you know that I was a spy for the light?"

Harry watched his old professor for a moment. It was remarkable the change in the man when he wasn't busy looking at Harry as if he was some unsavory specimen to be used in a potions experiment. He looked old for his years and Harry begrudgingly acknowledged that the man had not had an easy life.

"I didn't know. Not until later anyway. However, Professor Dumbledore was always saying that he trusted you completely. If I am being completely honest though, it was mostly because I was scared. The Headmaster had just died and I realized that if you really had betrayed us than we didn't stand a chance. I might not be the brightest out there, but I did realize there was more going on than I had been told. So out of desperation, I took another one of my reckless gambles and chose to believe what the professor had been claiming all along."

Snape didn't react to the words. He just turned back to the fire, threw in the powder and in a flare of green he was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe.

"dialogue"  
" _mental dialogue"  
_ " **parsel"  
** " _ **mental parsel"**_

 _AN: Thanks for all your continued support and the wonderful reviews! We've got a few more things to establish and then the pace should pick up a bit. Unless a certain familiar keeps stealing scenes. Perhaps I'll write a one-shot of some of her escapades when I have some time._

* * *

Tom was absorbed in his reading of Potter's plans for a wizarding orphanage when he was abruptly interrupted by Nagini. She slithered up the leg of his desk and deliberately curled up directly on top of the papers he had been reading moments prior.

He narrowed his eyes at her, **"Nagini, you are interrupting my work. What do you want?"**

She flicked her tongue at him in a sign of irritation, **"What I want is for you to stop ignoring me. You have been sitting at this desk all day and I am bored. Fix it."**

Tom couldn't contain an exasperated sigh. He glanced at the clock and noted that more time had passed than he had realized. He supposed he could take a break for a late lunch and to appease his fussy familiar. He should have just gotten an owl. Then when the blasted thing got too aggravating, he could just give it a letter and send it somewhere a few countries over to buy himself a few days peace.

 **"Very well."** He pushed back his chair and stood. Then he picked Nagini up and allowed her to coil around his shoulders. **"What is it you were hoping to do now that you have gained my attention? You rarely come to me out of boredom."**

Nagini pushed her head against Tom's arm prompting him to scratch her head, **"I do not know, but you will have to think of something. Normally I would chase the little elves around or scare that rat man with my most menacing glares."** Nagini visibly sulked, **"The rat man is not here and the only elf I have found is mean to me and whacked me with a spoon when I got too close. Then it waved it's finger at me and started scolding me."** She brightened a bit, **"Can I eat it Master? It dared to insult a noble serpent. Especially one as majestic as I. We cannot allow such disgrace!** **They must be taught that such insult will not stand!** **"**

Tom took a moment to imagine the scene and the image came to mind all too readily. He would need to have a talk with Nimsey. At that point Nagini started a loud rant about ridding the house of those floppy eared pests. Perhaps he would get the elf a bigger spoon.

 **"-ey will regret the day they chose to go against me and my reptile brethren. We will crush them in our coils and our venom will run strong and** **poisonous** **through their veins. Until the last-"**

Tom tuned out the ongoing tirade and mentally reached out to the other annoying nuisance he sometimes dealt with. _"Potter."_

A sense of surprise reached him immediately followed by, _"Tom? I'm surprised you would contact me. Did you have a question about the proposal?"_

 _"No. Meet me in my entrance hall in five minutes."_

This time he felt only bewilderment. _"Alright...Why do I feel like this is some kind of trap? You do remember you can't try to harm me right?"_

Tom felt his eye twitch. _"Do not tempt me. No potter, I am not plotting some ploy to kill you. Just get over here."_

He stood impatiently in the entrance hall while Nagini continued to spout out about her campaign against house elves worldwide. A few minutes later there was a crack and Potter was standing there with a quizzical look on his face. Tom briskly walked up to the boy, pried Nagini off himself, then dropped her in Potter's arms.

"Go entertain yourselves. Elsewhere."

With that he turned on his heel and strode out of the room intent on returning to his work and a light lunch.

* * *

Harry had no idea what had just happened. He had been witness to a lot of strange things since rejoining the wizarding world at eleven. Sentient cars, Dumbledore wearing pink, blast-ended skrewts, Lockhart wearing pink, an acrumantula funeral, Umbridge wearing pink, it really was a long list. This one might just top them all though. He looked down at the snake in his hands who seemed to be ranting about... house elf genocide? What was going on?

 **"Nagini."**

 **"-e'll string their eyes on our tails as signs of our conquest! They will tremble in fear at our-"**

 **"Nagini!"**

This finally seemed to get her attention as she paused in her verbal onslaught. She looked around a moment and appeared to take in her change in company.

 **"I see how it is. Master was inspired by my passion and has gone off to start organizing the downfall of the elves."**

Harry somehow doubted that's what Tom was doing, **"Nagini, why is it that you want to eradicate all the house elves?"**

Nagini raised herself up imperially, **"The elf that serves Master had the gall to hit one as dignified as me with a spoon!"**

Harry blinked. Nimsey had hit Nagini with a spoon. He barely managed to contain the snort that threatened to escape. If Nagini was willing to wipe out an entire race over being bopped in the head with cookware, he didn't want to know what she would try if he dared laugh over it. He had to turn his face away just in case she was able to read facial expressions. He could feel his lips twitching despite his best efforts.

After a few moments, he felt he had sufficiently collected himself to turn back to the still indignant snake. **"Nagini, what if Nimsey apologized? Do you think you could maybe postpone wiping all elves off the map if she did?"**

Nagini looked borderline mutinous, but she turned up her nose with a curt **"Perhaps,"** She looked at Harry, **"but if it tries it again I will not hesitate to strike."**

Harry figured this was as good as he would get. He called out, "Nimsey."

There was a pop and the small being was standing in front of him. She looked from him to the snake still draped over his arms then raised an eyebrow expectantly. "What can Nimsey be doing for Master's guest and Miss Snakey?"

At least she was calmer than Dobby. Harry shuddered to think what a confrontation between Nagini and the hyperactive house elf would be like. He was suddenly extremely glad he had sent Dobby to work for Andromeda and Teddy.

"Sorry to bother you Nimsey, but I think there might be a bit of a misunderstanding. Nagini seems rather upset and says you hit her with a spoon."

The elf sent a stern look towards the snake, "Miss Snakey was trying to cause all sorts of troubles. She kept knocking things over and was making a mess in the kitchen. So I told her she was a bad Snakey and she wasn't to do that." The elf put her hands on her hips and looked quite admonishing despite her small stature.

Harry sighed, **"Nagini, were you purposefully making a mess in the kitchen?"**

The snake looked away, **"Maybe."** She quickly jerked her head back, **"I was bored! Tom was ignoring me and the elf wasn't running like all the ones at the silly blonde man's house always did and there are no rats to chase around here! My favorite rock was cold, so I couldn't even nap."**

Now Harry felt a little bad for the high maintenance familiar. "Nimsey, it seems that Nagini was just bored and upset that Tom didn't have time for her. Maybe you could give her a rat or two to chase and heat up her rock for her?"

Nimsey's stern visage brightened, "Nimsey can be doing that! If Miss Snakey wants to come with Nimsey, Nimsey will get Miss Snakey a big rat and heat the rock."

Nagini perked up at that proclamation and hastily slid down from Harry. She slithered up to the house elf, **"Luckily for you I have more important matters to deal with than destroying your little species. I suppose I will have to let you live for now."**

Nimsey looked questioningly up at Harry. Harry just shrugged, "She says thanks."

The elf ran a long finger down Nagini's spine, much to the snake's pleasure. Then the pair walked, or slithered, happily away. Harry wondered what kind of mayhem the two of them would cause now that they had resolved their differences. He almost pitied Tom.

Harry looked at the empty space the two had last occupied. Almost.

* * *

When he heard a light knock, Tom glanced up to see his study door open. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised to see Potter standing there after he had all but dragged him to the manor.

"You might as well take a seat now that you are here." He noted the absence of his enthusiastic familiar, "Where is Nagini?"

Potter moved over to a chair on the other side of the desk, "She got a bit distracted and wandered off again." He tilted his head slightly, a distinctly amused expression crossing his face, "It's somehow fitting that you have a snake with such a lofty ego that an acceptable form of retaliation against even the smallest of slights is all out war. They do say pets take after their owners. I guess there's some truth to that."

Tom leveled his most unimpressed glare at the brat, "Nagini is a familiar, not a pet and she has always been a force unto herself. I assure you I had nothing to do with it." Potter did not look convinced, but at least he had the sense to refrain from further comment on the subject.

Tom gestured to the papers before him, "Potter explain to me why you insist on keeping children with their muggle parents instead of just taking them into our world at a young age. Considering that most of the other related topics revolve around less exposure to muggles, I find it surprising you would be willing to jump through so many hoops to make leaving them feasible."

Potter pulled over a couple of the papers Tom had been reading over and skimmed them. "Ignoring the more obvious argument of morals and ethics which I'm sure would fly in one ear and out the other with you, the answer is twofold. First, while your moral compass might be more than a little broken, if you tried to forcibly remove children from their families you would run into a great deal of opposition from the muggleborns currently in our society and many of the more pro muggle families. Since these are the largest demographic of people who would support me in the wake of your demise, we need to keep them mullified. They might not have the votes in the Wizengamot, but they still hold a fair amount of sway as a collective."

"The second part gets a bit complicated. Have you read the sections regarding squibs?"

Tom picked out the corresponding sections for reference, "Yes, you said you want to bring them back into our society as they are technically magical beings and it would reduce the amount of witches and wizards born into the muggle world. Seeing as squib lines are apparently where most if not all muggleborn stem from. You also have some mention here of squibs being capable of using passive magics."

Potter nods, "Correct. I suspect that with some blood tests we'll discover that many of today's muggleborns will find that they are either distantly related to the current noble houses or the closest living relation to a noble house thought dead. It could be that when they come of age, they will be able to claim their Lordship and reestablish an old house. What would happen if we put those children into orphanages and allowed the current pure blood families to adopt them? Not only could they gain some control over the house assets and seats until the child comes of age, they could also raise the child in their own image. We want to diversify the Wizengamot, not indoctrinate more people into the current system of corruption."

"If we simply take the children and ignore the parents and siblings, then we are still leaving the squib lines out in the muggle world and we will continue to see rising numbers of muggleborns. So instead we get them involved. We find the children earlier than eleven and enroll them in a new system of magical primary schools. This will expose them to the magical society younger and present them with less of a cultural shock when they do go to Hogwarts. They won't feel so lost and won't cling so desperately to the familiarity of muggle customs. I suspect that many wizarding families would also appreciate a separate school to teach young children instead of placing the burden of education strictly on the parents or expensive tutors."

"Then we connect the parents. For most muggleborn parents, their only point of contact with the wizarding world is their children. If we put them in touch with say, the other parents of their children's primary school classmates, they'll naturally form their own support base. Things like accidental magic won't be such an issue with people to talk to who understand and can help. Hopefully, this will reduce some of the stigma and fear in many muggle households when confronted with magic. It will also serve to bring the families further into the magical world and potentially keep them there."

Tom leaned back and thought over all Potter had said. He raised some good points. While it would be a fair amount of initial work contacting the families, ensuring secrecy and bringing them into the fold, it would make efforts further down the line a lot smoother. For it all to work though, there would need to be a way for the squibs to contribute as meaningful members of their society. It was the only way the pure blood families would even remotely consider tolerating their presence while also avoiding the squibs leaving again due to feeling like second class citizens.

"You genuinely believe that you can incorporate squibs into our society simply because they can perform passive magics?"

Potter gave him a slightly disbelieving stare, "Of course. I think you are underestimating just how pervasive passive magics are. About the only thing a squib can't do is hold a wand and actively cast spells. Spells are hardly the only way we perform magic. With a few high level exceptions, potions are all made using passive magic. Herbology, runes, arithmancy, astrology, history, certain older styles of rituals, the handling of most magical animals, and plenty of other less common branches of magic rely heavily on passive magic. Take enchanting objects for example. The carving of runes on the object often has to be done by hand, without magic so that it does not interfere when the magic to power the enchantment is cast. Rune arrays that use ambient magic could easily be created and activated by a squib. Even the more practical branches of divination, such as scrying, have both passive and active means of utilization."

"I think if we have a group of people dedicated to furthering those branches of magic, we would find a wealth of innovation that would benefit everybody. It's a goldmine of untapped potential that our emphasis on wand based magics has led us to neglect. I think we are all idiots for letting such manpower go to waste due to prejudice."

Tom was completely stunned. At Hogwarts, they teach the students that magic is magic. They never really delve into where magic comes from or how it's channeled. In truth there are many ways to manipulate magic. A wand is called a focus because it does just that. It helps draw magic up from your inner reserves and actively shapes it into some force that alters the world around it. That is what squibs cannot do. They don't have that inner source to mold and press upon the world. However, passive magic manipulates the magic in the surrounding environment. It's a more subtle and also delicate approach and requires the ability to allow magic to channel through the body, but it does not actually drain any kind of inner reserves. It is how wards can stay active without constantly draining the person they were tied to. Or how enchanted objects don't lose their enchantments over time. Potions also rely heavily on it as a catalyst, many of the ingredients simply would not mix or manifest the more magical properties without it. This is also one of the reasons potions tend be so volatile while in the brewing stage and mistakes manifest in such unpredictable ways.

It had never occurred to him before that squibs were actually different from muggles although it should have. They can see the magical creatures that muggles can't see and utilize magical objects and transportation, such as the floo. He had just never given any thought as to why this was the case. After all they were just squibs. The entirety of wizarding society were a bunch of blind fools. Potter was right. The shear potential was staggering.

Perhaps working with Potter would not be such a headache after all. He possessed a level of understanding and insight that Tom would never have expected from the boy. Whatever else he had done over the past couple of years, he had not spent the time idly. Tom shuffled through the papers on his desk until he found the next topic he wanted to discuss. He picked up a quill and ink for notes and they set to work.

* * *

Over five hours. They had been working for over five hours and Harry hadn't even noticed the time pass. They had only stopped when Nimsey interrupted by telling them, with little room for argument, that it was time to eat. Harry really should put more effort into remembering to eat regularly. Now that he had established himself semi-permanently at Grimmauld, there really was no valid reason for him to be skipping meals. He was just so used to going without between the Dursleys and all the running, that he honestly just forgot most of the time.

Eating habits aside, Harry was still thrown by just how brilliant the other man really was. It was one thing to hear about him being incredibly gifted and the top student while he was at Hogwarts, it was another to actually witness the man at work. Their proposal covered a lot of the what's and why's. What things should change, why they needed changing and what those changes should be. However, it was lacking in the how's. They had the general order of events, but most of the logistics needed to be fleshed out. Tom was truly excellent at it. Harry could tell he was a meticulous planner and Harry was almost glad the man had split his soul and lost his rationality those years ago. Where Voldemort failed, Tom Riddle would have conquered Wizarding Britain with a laughable ease.

Harry stretched until he felt his spine pop, earning him a disgusted look from the other. "I've been meaning to ask, why haven't you brought up the prophecy yet?"

Tom gave him the you are an idiot stare, otherwise named unimpressed number five. Harry suddenly felt like he had missed something obvious, but couldn't think of what it would possibly be.

"Did you learn nothing in your divination class about prophecies Potter? The prophecy between us has been rendered invalid."

What. Harry stared at the man. His brain stuttered to a halt as it repeated those last two words over and over again trying to make sense of them. He must have misheard that. Maybe Nimsey had slipped something into his food.

"What?"

Tom sighed, "Do you know how prophecies work and why only some ever come to pass despite all of them being real?"

Harry couldn't do more than stare stupidly at the man. Tom continued, "A prophecy is a glimpse into a possible future. Or more specifically a set of futures. It is why the wording is often so vague since there are multiple paths it can represent. What makes prophecies unique from just very accurate deductions of future events is that they can be empowered. If the parties involved act on the prophecy they give it power. Think of it as a kind of force that draws events in a certain direction. Once a prophecy has been empowered it is actually very difficult to stop. I'm slightly amazed you did. More so since you obviously didn't know what you were doing."

"If I had been in full control of myself at the time I heard the piece of our prophecy I would have still acted upon it. Not in the manner I did of course. I would at least have made sure I knew the whole thing before taking action. However, I would have acted on it if for no other reason that I knew that Dumbledore would also act on it. Who a prophecy is spoken to isn't random. The recipient is just as much a part of it as the players. This is why prophecies are often considered self fulfilling."

"However Dumbledore is dead and the only other two people who's names were on the prophecy orb were yours and mine. The moment we made a binding oath to cease hostilities we stripped the prophecy of its power. Neither of us can currently act on it even if we wanted to. After our agreement is at an end, if we resume hostilities we could conceivably activate it again, but until such a time, it holds no power over anyone."

Harry's brain had essentially shut down. He could not wrap his mind around everything he had just heard. He really hated divination. As far as he could tell trying to meddle with the the future had never worked out well for anyone. He slightly wondered if the prophecy really had been rendered moot or if it had in fact simply already been fulfilled like he had thought. He supposed it didn't really matter. Though it made him a little angry with both Tom and Dumbledore for jumping onto the prophecy bandwagon so easily. He understood that Tom was a little more than slightly insane and Dumbledore had been desperate, but that prophecy had made a lot of his life hell. He hadn't even known why until he was fifteen. Now he hears the whole sorry mess could have been avoided. Well, he felt justified in being somewhat bitter about the situation.

He rubbed his face and tried to snap out of it. It was all in the past and there was nothing he could do about it. He might as well make it back to Grimmauld Place before he allowed himself to sulk over the unfairness of it all. Maybe he would make himself feel better by shooting spitballs at the portrait of Sirius' mother. She hated it when he did that. He had charmed a straw to change the color of the spitballs at random and make them extra sticky. It never ceased to be amusing and always brightened his mood.

"Right. Well I suppose that answers that question. If I were to ask you what you did to Snape, would the answer involve anything equally world shattering? Please don't tell me he did something like smile. I'm not sure my fragile mind could handle such a revelation."

Tom lightly scoffed, "I don't believe he is physically capable of the action. Fear not Potter, my conversation with Severus was nothing so extraordinary. However, I am curious as to how you know about it."

Harry tried to picture the man smiling and immediately regretted the action. To distract himself, he decided to answer Tom's implied question, "The other day he came storming in to the place I'm staying, letting loose his usual litany of insults at me. You must have really messed with his head though. Once he calmed down he was borderline pleasant company. Well, maybe that's a slight exaggeration. He is still Snape after all."

Harry saw Tom narrow his eyes in irritation. He wondered if maybe he had just gotten Snape into a bit of trouble by admitting to that. Snape hadn't said not to mention it though and the man was nothing if not careful. Still, he supposed he owed it to the potions master to make sure Tom wasn't too upset.

He interrupted whatever unpleasant thought Tom was likely entertaining, "Why the glare of doom?"

Tom's attention snapped back to him, "He did not mention having such easy access to your location."

Harry raised his eyebrow, "That's probably because he didn't. What he has access to is the old Order headquarters. It was abandoned after the Headmaster's death for safety reasons. We used it mostly as a dropoff location and a place to store extra research. The other day was the first day I actually saw Snape in person since the end of my sixth year. The majority of our extremely limited contact was through intermediaries. I've only recently been staying there and I'm vaguely surprised he bothered to look for me there at all."

For good measure he added, "He wouldn't have been able to tell you the location anyway. We put it under Fidelius."

Well tom only looked mildly put out now. He considered it a good deed done and tried to move the conversation back to the original point, "So what did you do to him?"

Tom got a rather sinister smirk on his face that practically exuded smugness. Harry suddenly felt a bit wary of the answer and wondered if maybe he shouldn't have asked. He hadn't exactly been joking. After the shock of the prophecy, he really didn't want his world view thrown again quite so soon.

"Nothing too extreme. I simply told him the truth." If anything his smirk grew more sinister at that statement.

Harry once again questioned if maybe he should just stop now. He had never been one to heed caution though. He steeled himself for what might follow and plowed on, "The truth?"

"Oh yes. I merely informed him that I knew of his little betrayal and that should he attempt such acts again he will suffer greatly for it. Beyond that I told him of our current cease fire and your hand in my return. We did not go much into depth over the details. I wanted him to return home and truly reconsider his position in this war. Once he has had proper time to process events I will offer him one last chance to rejoin the ranks or I will dispose of him."

Harry got the impression that there was more that was being left out, but he decided not to press the issue for now. After his conversation with Snape, he thought he might know which way the man would choose so he didn't feel a pressing need to attempt interference. Besides he couldn't really blame Tom for being angry with Snape. It was true the man had betrayed him after all. Harry didn't group him with the likes of Wormtail mostly for the fact that Snape's betrayal had fallen in Harry's favor and he probably defected for much less pathetic reasons than the rat. That Tom was considering options that weren't torture and death proved just how far he'd come from being Voldemort.

Harry glanced at the clock and noted that it was growing late. "I should probably be heading back." He had a sudden thought and couldn't help but grin, "You know the next time you want me over here to discuss something just say so. No need to use Nagini as an excuse."

Unimpressed number two. Maybe he should begin keeping a tally. Perhaps start up a betting pool amongst Tom's minions. He could take requests on things to tell Tom and then they could bet on which glare would be given in response.

"It was not an excuse Potter. She was being insufferable. I figured you deserved each other's company." Tom looked thoughtful for a moment, "However, you have proven yourself not entirely incompetent. I will likely call on you again in the future."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Was everybody on the dark's side incapable of giving anything but backhanded compliments? Maybe it was some kind of prerequisite to join. Mentally shrugging, he gave the man a casual salute in confirmation then let himself out.

As he strolled back to the apparition point he thought over recent events. He couldn't say he had ever expected things to turn out as they had, but he thought they were going rather well all the same.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe.

"dialogue"  
" _mental dialogue"  
_ " **parsel"  
** " _ **mental parsel"**_

 _AN: Well this chapter went to unexpected places. It came back around eventually though. Thanks again to everyone for the wonderful support! I should let you know that there will probably not be an update next week as I will be traveling again (tis wedding season) so don't fret and our crazy duo will be back before you know it._

* * *

Tom sat in his study waiting for Lucius to arrive. It had been a couple of weeks since that day he had foisted Nagini on Potter. Since then they had established a semi regular routine where Potter would drop by periodically, often unannounced, and they would continue their revision of the wizarding world. However, all their planning would get them nowhere if they weren't able to establish a power base. He had put off this particular meeting for too long already. They needed better insight into the current state of the ministry and the support of families that were a part of the Wizengamot if they were to progress their plans further. Lucius would be able to provide answers for both.

While he waited, he smugly looked at the lack of clutter on his desk. He had finally gotten Potter to give him a few of those enchanted folders. The organization they provided had been well worth the amusement the boy received at the idea of him utilizing muggle stationary. He had of course promptly slipped them inside a leather covering to disguise their origins which only managed to amuse the brat even more. Some days he truly wondered why he put up with Potter.

A crisp knock on his door announced the presence of the Malfoy Lord, "Enter Lucius."

The blonde entered the room with all of his usual grace. The man moved to bow when he finally caught sight of the Dark Lord. Lucius wasn't quite gaping, but it was the most undignified look Tom had probably ever seen on the other man. Tom deliberately let the silence grow to add emphasis to the other's obvious lack of decorum. He merely looked on as Lucius collected himself and completed his bow.

"My Lord, I admit, I was not expecting such a change in your appearance. I must say that while your previous visage was most wonderfully intimidating, you now possess an even greater regal demeanor. May I be the first to congratulate you on your success."

Let nobody claim that Lucius Malfoy was anything less than a superb diplomat. Tom lazily waved his hand towards the empty chair across from him, "Save yourself the platitudes Lucius, we have much business to discuss."

He caught the calculating look the blonde sent him as the man took a seat, but he made no mention of it. Instead he moved on to more pressing matters, "Tell me Lucius, what is the current state of the Ministry?" He raised a hand to stop the blonde answering, "I have read your reports. I want to know more than just the general appearance of affairs. What is actually happening within our dear government?"

The Malfoy Lord leaned back in his chair thoughtfully as he considered the question. Eventually he laced his hands together and evenly met Tom's gaze, "There is much unrest within the ministry. Scrimgeour's decrees are getting ever more extreme in his attempts to appease the public demand for action. He is pushing every ethical boundary he can short of being labeled a villain himself. Unprecedented raids against suspected dark families, allegedly random searches of civilians on the street for illicit items, the shops in Knockturn Alley are being regularly vandalized. People are being detained for even the most unsubstantiated accusations of possible dark activity.

The auror department itself is split and the rift in the ranks is becoming more apparent as the days progress. Part of the department fanatically back Rufus and are growing ever more violent under the name of ensuring peace. Another faction are working for Shacklebot and by extension Moody trying to further the goals of the Order. Whether they realize that is what they are doing or not is debatable. A third group consist of the death eaters you have had infiltrate and others who are sympathetic to the cause. In short the department is inefficient at best and self destructive at worst.

The DMLE in general is overrun with complaints from both sides ranging from grievances against the aurors treatment to petty crimes resulting from escalating tensions amongst civilians. They lack the manpower to properly handle them all and the budget has already been stretched to the limit. Many of the smaller cases are being dismissed out of hand to make room for anything brought up in Scrimgeour's anti-dark crusade.

International affairs are also tense. Most other countries are taking a wait and see approach to the local conflict. They will likely stay out of any disputes until a winner has been resolved. Then they will either try to ingratiate themselves to the victor or launch their own attacks if the remaining forces appear weak enough. Until such a time they will maintain their stance of neutrality.

It should be noted that the goblins are taking a similar approach. They will be looking for every opportunity to gain ground over the wizarding populace during the turmoil. Should they deem it profitable, we could easily have a goblin rebellion on our hands in the aftermath of this war.

The obliviators are working overtime. Between wizards fleeing into the muggle world in hopes to weather the storm and our own overzealous colleagues looking for a bit of sport, the muggles are starting to notice. I have heard that they are being told the strange happenings are a series of terrorist attacks. However, I cannot say how long this excuse will hold up. They may be merely muggles, but even they have limits on gullibility."

Tom mulled over the information Lucius had provided. Everything was about as he had predicted. The ministry was falling apart at the seams and was only just barely holding onto the veneer or functionality. It was simply a matter of time before something finally gave.

While he would be more than happy to see the current system collapse in upon itself, they couldn't risk exposing themselves to the muggles. Many people seemed to forget that the primary function of the ministry was to prevent just such an event. In fact it was that endeavor that had led to the initial establishment of a Ministry of Magic. Over time this goal had suffered as new functions were integrated into the ministry and the position of minister gained more power. He would wager that today, even amongst ministry workers, there were a startling amount of people who were ignorant of this main purpose.

Tom studied the blonde across from him. Lucius looked as composed and immaculate as ever. Tom however knew that the Malfoy Lord must be under a great deal of stress. He had not said as much, but it was little secret that after his stint in Azkaban the man had not recovered in the public eye. He was still technically a wanted fugitive. However, he had enough aurors and ministry personnel in pocket to divert any close scrutiny and the growing discord in the DLME could only work in his favor. That the man was still so well informed of internal happenings spoke much of his skill.

He refocused his attention to the conversation at hand, "Would you agree with me Lucius that the current state of affairs could be considered untenable?"

That calculating look returned, "Yes my Lord. Should the situation maintain course, I would give the ministry another year before they start cutting out the smaller departments and two before it will be rendered largely obsolete altogether. However, Scrimgeour is likely to attempt something drastic before it comes to that. There are rumors of him looking to form something along the lines of a specialized task force that would answer directly to him. It would, of course, comprise of his most avid supporters. It is also likely that he will grant them special privilege to use the unforgivables."

"I see. So dear Rufus is looking to return to old methods then."

The unforgivables had been sanctioned for use against his death eaters towards the end of his last campaign in the 70's. Rufus Scrimgeour had always been willing to go to questionable lengths in his pursuit of justice and it seemed the intervening years had not changed him much. However it would not matter, if all went according to plan then Scrimgeour would not remain in power much longer.

Throughout his explanation, he noted that Lucius had been eyeing him discreetly, taking in the changes. Tom knew it was only a matter of time before the blonde's curiosity got the better of him. The man was far to used to always being in the know. Likely, the only thing preventing him from speaking was his equally strong sense of self preservation. Perhaps it was time to reestablish Lucius' loyalties. He would wait until the other gave in to his desire for knowledge. It wouldn't do for the blonde to believe he had the upper hand after all. Luckily, one benefit of the return of his soul was the patience it had granted him. He could wait.

The silence lengthened and grew heavy. Each man seemingly occupied in their own thoughts. Tom was going over a mental list of interview topics he would ensure that Potter covered for his return to the public eye when the Malfoy Lord finally succumbed to his curiosity.

"Forgive my impertinence my Lord, but may I enquire as to why you have chosen to regain your former appearance? It must have been a truly remarkable piece of magic that only one of your genius and skill could accomplish."

Tom did not immediately respond. Instead he leveled an unreadable stare at the other and waited until the man's resolve slowly withered beneath his scrutiny. Once he saw the faintest glimmer of fear creep into Lucius' expression, he answered, "I have taken many steps over the years to ensure my immortality Lucius. My resurrection five years ago has proven that those steps were not in vain. However, it was brought to my attention recently that certain measures I attempted in my youth, when I did not have full access to the information I now know, had some adverse side effects. I merely sought to remedy the situation."

He gave the man a considering look, "You have served me many years Lucius and have made many sacrifices in pursuit of our common goals. Do not think you efforts have gone unnoticed. However it is also true that you have failed me multiple times costing us dearly. Fortunately for you, the damage done from both the incident with the diary and your failure to collect the prophecy has been largely mitigated through the efforts of a new ally."

Lucius raised a brow, "A new ally my Lord?"

As if summoned by the god of chaos himself, Potter chose that moment to unceremoniously barge into his study. He was looking down at some papers he was holding and had not noticed the Malfoy Lord sitting before him. Tom wished he was surprised at the boy's uncanny timing, but he had long since accepted that Potter had the oddest luck of anyone he had ever encountered.

Potter started rambling without looking up, "Hey, so I was going through some old research and I might have stumbled across a solution for that problem we were having regarding how to physically bring the merpeople to meetings regard-" He stopped dead when he glanced up and saw an equally stunned Lucius not five feet away.

For a heartbeat, the two just stared at each other in shock. Then it was Lucius that moved first. In an admittedly impressive burst of speed, the aristocrat was up with his wand drawn and a slightly crazed glint in his eye. He drawled with all the ice of the Arctic laced in his voice, "Potter. What are you doing here? Surely you do not believe that you can just walk in here unopposed and finish what you started 19 years ago?"

Tom blinked at the sudden burst of irrationality Lucius was displaying. Did the man truly believe his wards would allow in anybody he had not given explicit permission to enter? Perhaps his stay in Azkaban had had some lingering effects they weren't previously aware of. Then again Potter did have a way of driving even the sanest of men to their wits end. He could forgive Lucius the implied slight against his security in light of that fact.

He watched the altercation, curious of how Potter would handle the situation. If it wasn't for the sharpening of the boy's gaze, he would say that Potter wasn't at all concerned about the threat that faced him. The boy wonder didn't draw his wand. Instead he merely raised an eyebrow and casually leaned over to look behind Lucius and at him.

"To-" Harry cut himself off again at the warning glare that he was receiving. Perhaps he should be considerate and avoid using the man's given name in front of the death eaters. They had never really discussed how he would act when presented with death eaters. It probably hadn't occurred to either of them that he would meet any outside of Snape. At least not this soon. Ah well, he could be nice. This time.

"Voldemort, would you be so kind as to call off the minion? If he keeps scowling at me like that, he's going to get premature wrinkles on that pretty face of his." That somehow hadn't come out as polite as he intended. Then again he had never liked Lucius Malfoy and probably never would. The man was just so...well a lot of things. Everything about him managed to rub Harry the wrong way really. He wondered what Draco was doing these days. He hadn't heard much about his old rival since after Draco had graduated Hogwarts.

Lucius sneered at him, "You think you are so clever boy. You might have cost me my house elf and my freedom, but now that you have conveniently shown yourself once again I will take great delight in seeing you suffer."

Well that was a bit of a grudge he's holding onto. Granted, Harry had tricked the man into freeing Dobby and then said elf had kind of blasted him down the stairs, but that had been seven years ago already. He flat out refused to take the blame for the man getting himself arrested though. It wasn't like he had asked the man to set a trap for him and then botch it up.

"I also freed that Hippogriff you were trying to have killed in my third year. We had a good laugh over that one." Well, he hadn't exactly meant to say that either. It was just so hard to refrain from goading the man. He made it far too easy really. He sidestepped what looked to be a rather nasty curse and heard it impact the wall behind him. Okay that probably hadn't been his best idea. Malfoy was looking rather angry now.

He ducked behind a chair just in case Lucius decided to fire another spell and chanced a glance at Tom. He immediately realized that the man was not going to intervene. If anything he looked amused at Harry's predicament. Well if that's how it was going to be, then Harry was not above making sure the Dark Lord regretted that choice. Harry thought a moment, eyeing the blonde who still had his wand drawn and pointed at him. He then had a, in his opinion, brilliant idea and felt a wide grin spread across his face. He took extra glee in the sudden wariness he saw enter Tom's eyes.

From his position behind the chair he called out, "Nimsey."

Tom's eyes widened, "Pott-" He was abruptly cut off by the sound of the elf popping into the room.

Everybody's attention was drawn to the small being now standing in the middle of the room.

"What can Nimsey be doing for Mister Harry Sir?"

Quickly, before Tom could get a word out, Harry pointed at the scorch mark Malfoy's stray curse had left on the wall, "Nimsey, Mr. Malfoy has come unhinged and is carelessly throwing dangerous curses around. Even worse he is causing damage to the house and ruining your hard work to keep it clean. I need your help to stop him and make sure he doesn't do it again."

The little elf turned a very impressive glare on the blonde. Harry had to wonder if she had learned that from Tom. The next thing he knew Malfoy was disarmed, stuck to a chair across the room, and silenced. Harry watched on in awe as Nimsey started to scold the dignified man as if he was nothing more than a misbehaving toddler. It was a beautiful sight. He would remember this moment forever.

He was vaguely aware of Tom trying to get his attention, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the surreal scene before him. He jumped slightly when he felt a stinging hex hit his arm and finally turned towards the other man. Though not so much that he couldn't still watch the dressing down of Lucius Malfoy.

Tom shot him unimpressed glare number six for a few moments. Then he let out a quiet, resigned sigh and relaxed into a somewhat tired look, "Was that really necessary Potter?"

Harry hummed, "Probably not, but it's certainly entertaining. I had no idea Nimsey would handle it like that though." He looked at Tom out of the corner or his eye, "Is that behavior typical of Malfoy? I was under the impression he was generally more controlled in his actions. He's a git and I don't like him, but I never thought he was one to jump to conclusions and act so impulsively."

"He is not. In fact, before your arrival he was perfectly fine. He is obviously under greater stress than I had initially thought. Although, I am of the personal opinion that you drive everyone you meet to madness."

He saw Tom look to where Nimsey was still chastising Malfoy, "However, you will both have to put aside your grudges against the other. We need him to further our agenda and I will not tolerate either of you jeopardizing our plan over petty grievances."

Harry really wondered what Tom would consider a major grievance if a stay in Azkaban and the political fallout that resulted was considered petty. He didn't get the chance to ask however as Nimsey had apparently finished. She popped out of the room, leaving a ruffled and sullen looking blonde behind.

No one spoke. With as much dignity as possible, Malfoy stood, silently straightened his clothes and smoothed his appearance. He walked back over to the desk and reclaimed his previous seat, "My Lord I apologize for my lack of composure just now. I acted rashly and I assure you it will not happen again." He clenched his jaw a moment and then forcibly relaxed, "Might I enquire as to what _Harry Potter_ is doing here?" He somehow made the name sound like he was speaking of something especially foul. It seemed that Malfoy was still a bit upset over what had just transpired.

Harry threw the man a cheeky smile and took the other chair at Tom's desk for himself. He expertly ignored the warning look Tom was giving him and answered, "You weren't wrong you know, I am here planning to kill Voldemort." He pointed at Tom and merrily continued, "And he's helping me do it."

* * *

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to will the growing migraine away. After his little bombshell, Potter had finally shut up long enough for him to briefly explain his intention to switch stratagems. He had told Lucius how he now planned to take England from within, instead of through more forceful means, using Potter's fame as a starting point. Unsurprisingly, Lucius had been very receptive to this change in methods as he had been playing the political game for quite some time. The trouble came when the Malfoy Lord had asked about his plans once he had control.

For the sake of his remaining sanity, he had decided to forgo any discussion of blood status until a later date. One in which he could ensure the brat's absence. Instead, he had pulled out some of their plans for the curriculum of Hogwarts as the man had once been on the board of governors. He was now starting to believe that he had made a terrible mistake.

"We are not changing the way students are sorted you incompetent ingrate! It is tradition!" Lucius had long since forgone any semblance of maintaining appearances by this point and was agitatedly pacing as he waved around some papers.

Tom saw Potter throw his hands up in the air in frustration, "I didn't say we were changing it. Just that students should be sorted three times over the years. It's ridiculous to sort young children by personality traits and practically tell them they will have to follow those traits the rest of their lives or be ridiculed." The boy was shooting daggers at the other, "Not everybody is a pompous peacock who is so caught up on keeping to tradition. Some people prefer things that don't permanently harm the psyche's of small children. Just be glad I didn't suggest abolishing the house system altogether."

Lucius use sneered at Potter and tapped the papers in his hands pointedly, "What's this about mandatory introductory muggle studies classes for all wizard raised students? Trying to force the muggles on us you cretin?"

Potter just rolled his eyes, "If you had bothered to read the whole thing you would realize that all that class is for is to teach wizard raised students how to properly blend in should they ever have to interact with the muggle world. The current muggles studies class is so horribly out of date, it's just lucky that most muggles mistake wizards they see as homeless crazies. If you had kept on reading, assuming you actually can read and aren't just slowly sounding out words in your head, then you would see a class on wizarding life for all the muggle raised students. It's a half year class, I think they will live through the injustice of being exposed to other cultures."

The pair had been at this for over an hour now. Every point listed was being contested and bickered over. They somehow managed to argue even when they agreed with each other. He wasn't sure when they had started interjecting insults every other sentence, but a few of them had been rather impressive. Tom had considered just leaving the room, but he was afraid that without his presence the two would finally come to blows and kill each other. Then he would be the one left to deal with the carnage and a distraught house elf.

He felt his eye twitch and decided enough was enough. He pointedly glared at the two and slowly started to spread his magic out into the room. Practically speaking, doing this didn't actually achieve anything. It didn't make spell casting any easier and you couldn't overwhelm another person and bend them to your will. From a technical perspective, it was much like the shift in atmospheric pressure proceeding a thunderstorm, it made the air feel heavy. What it was however, was wonderfully intimidating. Not many people realized that this was little more than a parlor trick. They just assumed that it was a natural byproduct of being a powerful wizard and never thought to explore further. In this case, it was enough to silently catch the attention of the other two in the room and simultaneously announce his displeasure.

Notice they did. They both trailed off from whatever argument they were engaged in. Lucius paused mid step and paled, while Potter shifted in his seat to face him and raised an eyebrow. He waited for Lucius to be seated, then in a too calm voice he spoke, "While I am overjoyed to see the two of you working together so splendidly, I am afraid these are issues that will have to wait for another time. Before we convene for the evening there is one last matter I would like to discuss."

He shot a look at Potter demanding he stay silent, then turned to look at Lucius, "Lucius I mentioned earlier that your services have not gone unnoticed. I would like to discuss how we are going to revoke your fugitive status and reestablish the credibility of the Malfoy name. As you are no doubt aware, the current plan to do away with Voldemort will leave any known followers in a rather difficult position."

Potter looked like he had just eaten something disagreeable, but did not interrupt. Lucius on the other hand looked a mixture of disbelieving and relieved, "What is it you suggest my Lord?"

"I suggest you turn yourself over to the Order of the Phoenix. You are to essentially tell them the truth, that you feared for your and your families safety in the face of my rage. You will tell them that you will turn traitor and spy for them in return for their protection of your wife and son. We will orchestrate raids for you to inform them of and when the war is settled, we will be able to laud your courage and how you did the right thing in the end. I am sure that you are more than capable of taking advantage of such an opportunity."

He was met with two looks of shock. Apparently Lucius had not yet realized how much he was letting his expression slip this evening. Potter opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. He looked somewhat pensive before finally coming out with, "That could work."

Lucius sneered at the boy, "Save your comments you reprobate. I do not need your help."

Potter gained a slightly amused look, "Oh? Then how do you plan to make contact with the Order? You can't exactly walk up to Shacklebot or Moody and it would look too suspicious if you went through Snape. Moody already distrusts him and if Voldemort doesn't know of his duplicity then why should you?"

Lucius' eyes widened, "Severus has truly turned traitor then?"

Tom wished Potter had not brought it up, but he realized the necessity that Lucius was in the know regarding this, "The issue has been addressed, much like yourself, Severus had his own grievances with the way things were previously handled. If he wishes to tell you more, he will. Rest assured he and I have come to a compromise on the matter. However, this does lend credence to Potter's comment." Red eyes met green, "How would you suggest that Lucius proceed?"

Potter got that look again. He was starting to really dread that look. It was the one the brat always got right before he said something that he knew the other person would hate and that Potter was looking forward to the reaction.

"You, dear Lucius Malfoy, get to go play suck up to the ever delightful Weasley Twins."

It was all Harry could do not to cackle aloud. The expression on Malfoy's face was almost as lovely as watching him cut down to size by Nimsey. He scored double points because Tom was back to staring at the ceiling as if he was begging the gods for mercy. The best part was that he was completely serious.

Since nobody else seemed capable of speech he continued, "The Weasley twins are in the most accessible non-ministry position with their shop. Bill might be another option, but he's more difficult to track down. The real reason to use the twins though is that we can tell them I sent you and they won't go spreading around that somebody has had contact with me."

Something must have clicked for Tom, "They are one of your outside contacts."

Harry nodded, "Yes, we've been using the Weasley Wizard Wheezes mail order forms to send coded messages. They have been sending us supplies and research disguised as normal wares. I'll be able to pass a letter along with Lucius that should at least get them to hear him out."

Malfoy still looked a bit ill at the idea of dealing with Weasley's, especially the twins, but he slowly nodded and agreed to the plan. Harry wasn't going to mention that he was going to tell the twins that he thought Lucius' hair would be most fetching if it happened to turn periwinkle blue.

He pulled out an order form, he always kept a few handy, and started to fill it out. When he was finished he handed it to the blonde, "There you go. One glowing letter of recommendation. Don't worry I made sure to leave out the whole being a giant prat bit. I'm sure they'll work that out for themselves soon enough though."

Malfoy accepted the form and delicately held it by a corner like it was diseased. He stared at it a moment and must have gathered his resolve as he carefully folded it and tucked it away in his robes. Harry dearly wished he could be there to witness that little chat.

* * *

Lucius had left shortly after he had received the letter with only a few more words from Tom promising another meeting at a later date. Apparently he had interrupted before they got to certain topics and following events, Malfoy house elf debacle number two, had prevented them from ever getting back around to them.

The pair sat in silence for a awhile. Neither seemed terribly motivated to move or talk. Finally Tom let out a weary sigh, and Harry thought he looked bizarrely human with that action, "Must you antagonize him so much? You take far too much humor from causing chaos."

Harry thought about how best to explain it, "You might not remember it seeing as you were still suffering from not having enough soul, but when I first contacted you I told you I was tired." He met the other's eyes evenly, "That hasn't changed. Most of the time I would like nothing more than to hide away somewhere nobody can reach me and just stay there."

Harry waved his arm around encompassing the room, "All of this has been so surreal. I mean I'm Harry Potter and your the Dark Lord Voldemort, we've been trying to kill each other for years. Yet here we are, working together. And you know what, we make a pretty good team." He looked up at the ceiling not really seeing it, "Sometimes though it's difficult to take everything completely seriously. Everything is just so strange and truthfully I am very much out of my depth and so very tired. I kind of threw it all in on this one and I don't really have anything left to lose."

Harry looked back at those red eyes, "I promise not to let things get out of hand so just let me have my fun where I can find it. Malfoy has too much self preservation to let something like my goading stop him and it helps me accept working with somebody I have despised for so long."

Tom just looked at him for a moment longer. Assessing red eyes finally closed in weary resignation, "Fine Potter just make sure you don't land us in any trouble you cannot fix again. I am not so foolish to think we can avoid it altogether with you around."

Harry couldn't help the startled laugh that escaped him, "Don't worry I'll be sure to do my best."

"Yes, that is what I am afraid of."


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe.

"dialogue"  
" _mental dialogue"  
_ " **parsel"  
** " _ **mental parsel"**_

 _AN: Thanks as usual for all the feedback, faves and follows! You guys are the best! I caught a cold and didn't have the energy to edit this as heavily as I normally do so apologies if there are more typos than usual. I'll probably go back through and clean it up in a day or so. Enjoy!_

* * *

Harry stared at the man across from him blankly, "We're doing what?"

"We are going to duel Potter."

Tom couldn't be serious. His mind was flooded with a multitude of reason this was a bad idea and yet he couldn't seem to make his mouth form them. Sure, he had been pretty good at defense in school, but he had never even graduated. Being on the run wasn't exactly a prime training opportunity either. Then there was all the time researching and learning about the wizarding world instead of learning new spells. Tom was...Well Tom was the genius student who became a Dark Lord. Not only did he have the knowledge, he had tons of experience too. Harry was under no delusion that he might even pose a tangible threat to the man. Surely he wasn't that bored?

He settled for an almost desperate, "Why?"

Unimpressed number three again. Harry mentally sighed, it seemed that Tom was going to enlighten him on why they were going to be flinging spells at each other and was going to do it in that 'you are an idiot not to realize this voice'.

"Potter, what exactly is it that you plan to tell the wizarding world after you have defeated the dark lord?"

Harry tried to see where this was going. He failed, "That I could never have done it without you?" It sounded more like a question despite being his idea in the first place.

Tom just kept giving him that look, "What would it say about me if you go and 'defeat' the most feared dark lord of the century with only the basic spells you learned in school? I refuse to be vanquished by something so paltry as a stupefy."

Well Harry got now that Tom actually meant to train him, but that brought up another confusing point, "Are you trying to prevent Voldemort from looking weak or are you trying to prevent your new alias from looking like a terrible teacher? You're not exactly being clear here." As an afterthought he added, "Also what about our oath to not intentionally harm the other?"

Tom, who's eye was starting to twitch, ignored the first statement entirely, "Dueling will not trigger the oath brat. I know you are aware that intent in magic is crucially important. We will not be fighting with the intent to harm the other so even if you are wounded," He gave a very unnerving smirk, "I assure you I will be just fine."

Harry was right, he did not feel assured in the slightest. He did not like the gleam that had entered the other's eye at that last bit. He had the feeling that Tom was not going to miss this opportunity to pay Harry back for all the headaches he'd caused the man lately. Where was Nagini when he needed a distraction so he could flee?

Tom stood and walked around his desk towards the door. He looked back pointedly when Harry hadn't made a move to stand. Harry gathered the tattered remains of his Gryffindor courage and reluctantly rose from his seat to follow the man. They traveled down the hall to a room Harry had never entered before. When he stepped inside and looked around, he had to admit he was somewhat confused.

"This is a large empty room."

He could hear the annoyance in Tom's voice, "What were you expecting? That we would fling magic around the library? We aren't training you for professional dueling circuits. We have agreed to have the final battle, as it were, on Hogwarts grounds. That is a large open space outdoors. I'm sure you see the similarity to this setup."

Harry watched him lazily conjure a dummy a couple of meters away, "First we are going to improve on your spell repertoire and accuracy." Tom pointed his wand at the dummy and without speaking a spell lashed out and hit it. Harry didn't know what spell it was, but as he watched the stuffing rain down around the area he decided he was okay with that fact. "Afterwards we will see about simulating scenarios with multiple opponents and bystanders."

Tom turned back to Harry and raised his wand, "For today though, you will duel me so that I might assess your current skill level."

Harry reached into his sleeve and fingered the two wands there. He hesitated only a moment longer before he pulled out his holly wand and squared off to face Tom. He cobbled together his resolve and decided he might as well make the most of this. It wasn't everyday the Dark Lord offered to teach you magic.

There was no fanfare or turning and pacing, Tom simply threw a spell his way and they began.

* * *

Tom smugly looked on as Potter lay on the floor trying to recover from their most recent match. The brat had not even attempted to move from that spot for the last ten minutes and he appeared to have no intention of trying anytime soon.

Tom thought over what he had learned about Potter over the course of their matches. He had a rather solid grasp on defense and Tom had been surprised the extent of his spell knowledge in the subject. Potter had not returned for his seventh year and yet he would easily pass the practical portion of the NEWTS. He still had a long way to go before Tom was satisfied, but at least it was a strong foundation to build on. His offense was lacking, which was not a surprise, but he had a good reaction time. Probably the strongest point in his favor was his creativity. He didn't fight like most wizards by simply standing and pointing his wand while relying heavily on shields. He especially used charms to interesting effect and favored distractions. Tom could admit that Potter had potential, but they had a lot of work ahead of them before Tom would allow the boy to showcase his skills in a public setting.

"You could look a bit less amused you know." The boy groaned a bit and pushed himself into a sitting position. "Oww. Did you really have to start conjuring random objects and flinging them at me in that last one? Or maybe you could have just used softer materials? I feel like a giant bruise."

Tom merely raised an eyebrow, "Incentive to not get hit. Now get up, we need to go to the library. I have a number of books I expect you to read."

The boy gave him a dirty look and he wasn't sure if it was the idea of standing or books that had earned it. Regardless, they were both happening so Potter would just have to get over it. He simply waited as Potter slowly maneuvered his way to standing and they left the room.

As he hobbled along Potter asked, "How often are we going to have these little training sessions of yours?"

Tom took a moment to consider, "I expect that I will be rather busy soon. Lucius is set to make contact with your Weasley twins later this week and I will have to make sure there is enough death eater activity that he can appear useful. I need to make arrangements for my own men so that the only ones captured before the end are the ones that would prove a hindrance to our agenda." He fixed Potter with a pointed look, "You cannot treat all my death eaters as you did Lucius."

Potter waved his hand dismissively, "I know, I know. I just have a personal grudge against the man. As long as your little minions don't start something it will be fine." He grimaced, "Actually on that note, don't bring Pettigrew anywhere near me if you want him to remain in one piece. I won't even pretend that I won't try to skewer the rat, roast him over an open flame, then feed his corpse to stray dogs if given half a chance."

Tom raised an eyebrow over that mental image, "Duly noted. To answer your initial question we will probably train one day a week. You will have to read and practice on your own time. Just remember that I will know if you neglect your work Potter and will make you regret it."

They entered the library and he left Potter to his own devices while he went to collect the books he had in mind. He came back a few minutes later to see Potter staring at the cover of a book like it was some kind of alien artifact. What had Potter managed to unearth in such a short time?

"What are you gawking at Potter?"

The boy looked up at him like he had never seen him before and he had didn't know the person who was in front of him. Then Potter looked back at the book and turned once more to him. The brat was for once completely speechless. Getting annoyed, Tom walked up and took the book from unresisting hands. He looked at the cover and froze. _101 Needlepoint Stitches_. He had never bought a book on needlepoint much less ever set eyes on this one before. Of course Potter managed to find this.

Unfortunately Potter recovered from his shock, "I had no idea you had such hobbies Tom. I never would have pegged you as the arts and crafts type. The things you learn about people..."

Tom refrained from rolling his eyes, just barely, "I was not even aware this book existed Potter. While I have my methods of relaxing, needlepoint is most certainly not one of them." He dumped the pile of books he had collected in Potter's arms, "Read those and practice the spells in them for next time."

Potter absently skimmed over the book titles and then gave a longer look around the library itself, "Where did you get all these books anyway? I know they weren't here when your father's family lived here so you had to have gathered them yourself." Potter thumbed the spine of an obviously older tome, "Many of these books must be rare too. It's quite the collection for just one person to acquire."

Tom narrowed his eyes at the implication of Potter's knowledge regarding his origins. However, he was picking up nothing outside of genuine curiosity from the boy. He moved to a chair and waited for Potter to follow suit before he answered, "Many I picked up during my travels after leaving Hogwarts. Others were gifts from classmates and admirers trying to get into my good graces." He smirked, "Many pure blood families are so accustomed to having extensive family libraries at their disposal that they have a skewed sense of the value of some of their books and they were more than happy hand them over if I expressed even a remote interest."

Potter gave a short laugh, "So essentially the perks of being a Dark Lord? I never really appreciated just how much of an advantage it would have been to grow up in an old wizarding household until I started to really go through the Black library. I think that was when it struck me just how comparatively limited the magic taught at Hogwarts is."

Potter leaned back in his chair and stared vacantly upwards, "There are books on all kinds of topics I had never even considered before. I was especially interested in what I read on group castings and I couldn't figure out why I had never heard of them being done. Weather magics, large area wards, group rituals and so many others. I eventually found out that while the practice of group casting isn't expressly outlawed, many of the disciplines required were themselves banned or restricted so there just aren't enough people with the knowledge to perform such feats."

Those death colored green eyes found Tom's, "When did being a wizard stop being about the magic? Why did we decide to take the very thing that makes us who we are and cripple it? Muggles write about magic and it's full of unlimited possibilities. Mystery, wonder, a connection with the earth and the sense that just around a corner anything can happen. In reality we use it like a tool. Just a convenience to make the day to day life a little bit easier. The potential is still there, but we obstinately ignore it so that those who play the political game can maintain a sense of control. We've stripped the magic from the magical world and people don't even notice."

Not for the first time Tom was struck by the thrum of melancholy he felt behind Potter's word. A sense of loss and age and something _other_ running as an undercurrent beneath everything that Potter spoke. Potter had never said as much, but Tom could tell the boy must have touched something. Some part of that deeper magic that the ministry had worked so hard to eradicate. Tom himself had come across it during his delving deeper into the Dark Arts than any he knew of. That raw, wild, dangerous form of magic. It always left a mark on the user. Changing them in subtle ways to reflect the powers they wielded. Tom's still red eyes were only one physical manifestation of his exposure, but the change ran far deeper than that. It was why he would never truly blend in with the sheep of the wizarding world. Why Potter had always stood out amongst his peers. Surviving the killing cursed had marked him more thoroughly than just a scar on his forehead. Others might not recognize it consciously, but they still felt the difference. No, the two of them would always stand out as something _more_.

"Control is the key word there Potter. How does a government maintain control when its citizens have access to such unpredictable and potent power? Most witches and wizards would never be capable of wielding such raw magic, but those that are become something else. The fools at the ministry fear what such individuals are capable of and they are aware there is little they can do to stop them once they have achieved their goals. So they try to make the population forget that it is even possible. The practice has gone of for so long they probably don't even realize how much they have limited themselves in the process."

Old familiar feelings of frustration and resentment resurfaced as he was reminded of all the times in his youth when he had run into yet another wall the ministry had erected. His pursuit of knowledge and magic blocked after he had only scratched the surface of what was achievable. Of his many grievances against Dumbledore that was what he found the most unforgivable. That a man so achieved and skilled would willingly remove knowledge from Hogwarts and aid in furthering ministry dictated restrictions was appalling. The sheep of the ministry might not fully understand what they were doing to magic, but Dumbledore most definitely did.

A comfortable silence took hold as the pair sat lost in their own thoughts. Eventually Potter shifted a bit and slowly started speaking as if thinking aloud, "It would be nice if we could reestablish apprenticeships for higher learning after Hogwarts. I know they are still sometimes done for certain masteries, but with the standardized test for the main branches it is an increasingly rare practice. If I remember correctly their main purpose was to help guide students through the more dangerous beginnings of dealing with specialized magics. A magical contract that connects a master and apprentice to serve as grounding and support as the student adjusts to the use of the more raw magic. That way they are less likely to be overwhelmed and consumed by their own uncontrolled power. Perhaps we should bring back guilds..."

Tom blinked. He was glad Potter wasn't actually looking his way because he was sure his surprise had shown itself on his face if only briefly. The idea was so obvious he took a moment to chastise himself for not even considering it before now. "Such a program would certainly prove useful when we start to propose the lifting of certain regulations and restrictions in the Wizengamot. They will not have a solid argument against such a motion if there is a system in place to monitor the use of more volatile magics. Guilds and apprenticeships would be an excellent way to achieve such a thing and will appeal greatly to the older members of the council who value tradition so heavily. We will need to update the apprenticeship contracts so as not to drive away the muggleborn population, but that is a trivial matter."

Tom summoned his notes, quill and ink and immediately set to outlining plans. Potter meanwhile had started on one of the books he had been given. Without pausing in his work, he remembered the other topic he had meant to bring up with the boy, "Severus is scheduled to arrive in a couple of hours. I would like you to be there for the discussion." From the corner of his eye he caught Potter's nod of acknowledgement and then he lost himself once more to his work. Only occasionally breaking the silence to pose a question of the other's opinion before once again allowing the sounds of the scratching of a quill and turning of pages to permeate the air.

* * *

When Severus arrived in his Lord's manor, he was immediately set upon by the house elf and ushered into the home. His Lord, he had never believed he would think of the man in such terms again, but after his discussion with the Potter brat he had returned to his quarters and come to the conclusion, with the help of many drinks, that he had little other choice. As much as it pained him, he conceded that Potter had a point. Their world had been on a downward spiral for many years and the situation was growing truly desperate. He could even admit to himself that the Dark Lord was only a symptom of the corruption and his insanity, while it hadn't helped matters, had only been one more item in the long list of their society's failings.

They stopped in front of the library and the elf pushed the doors open, then scurried off leaving him to enter on his own. Severus swept inside and froze once he caught sight of his Lord. Or more specifically his Lord and the Potter brat. They were sitting in two chairs of a reading area completely absorbed in whatever they were individually doing. What struck him however, was just how at ease they were in each other's presence. In his many years as a spy he had become an expert in body language and there wasn't a hint of tension between the two. The Dark Lord had spoken of a cease fire, but neither he nor Potter had indicated that they had any intention of closely working together. Obviously something had transpired in the weeks since his last meeting with the Dark Lord. He cleared his throat and found himself the immediate focus of both parties.

"Ah Severus, please have a seat. I am sure you will excuse the more informal setting." Some things never changed. The Dark Lord still retained a way of phrasing things so that there is little option in the matter. At least he was more polite about it with his sanity intact. He restrained his sneer and reminded himself that this man was possibly more dangerous despite his more human visage. He took a seat and waited.

The Dark Lord continued, "First we must address the matter of your loyalty Severus. I have given you some weeks to consider your position in this war. I believe I have been quite generous given your previous duplicity, but the tides are changing and the time where you can play both sides has come to an end. You must choose and commit now. We have no room for those with questionable allegiances."

Severus let the moment stretch while he once more considered his choice though his decision had long since been made. He noted how Potter had not made a move to interrupt and only sat quietly watching the proceedings. He was once more unnerved by how uncharacteristic the boy's actions appeared to him. He wished he would not have to say this in front of the brat, but he had little choice. He needed to be sure on this matter. After all even with Dumbledore dead, his oath was still binding. Turning his attention away from the boy he finally replied, "I have given the matter careful thought my Lord. I will fully align myself with your cause provided no harm comes to the dunderhead sitting next to you."

He saw Potter's eyes widen in shock and the Dark Lord gained a calculating gleam. He sneered at the brat so that he would not get any ideas and waited for the Dark Lord's response.

The Dark Lord slowly leaned forward staring at him intently, "Tell me Severus, what were the conditions for the old man to accept you under his protection? He may have been an idealistic fool, but I do not believe that he would be so blind as to welcome one of mine in the midst of war without any assurances. What was it that you gave him?"

"An unbreakable vow to protect the boy."

"What?" Potter looked so confused that had it been any other topic, he would have relished in the brat's ineptitude. Unfortunately he knew all too well that now that the brat was aware he would pursue this topic until he had an answer. Like a dog and a bone. Idiot boy.

The Dark Lord looked speculatively at the brat for a moment, "I suppose you must not have known given Severus' animosity towards yourself, but he and you mother where childhood friends and on into Hogwarts. In fact when your family was eventually targeted he went so far to request that I spare her life despite her blood status. I suspect that her death is what ultimately drove him to Dumbledore." He fixed his gaze back on Severus, "Is that not so Severus?"

Reigning in any irritation at his past being so exposed to the boy he nodded, "It is my Lord." He waited for the expected outburst from Potter. While it did eventually come, it was not at all what he expected. Nor was it directed towards him.

Potter's confusion slowly morphed into a dawning revelation as if something was finally making sense. He whirled to face the Dark Lord and pointed at him exclaiming, "That's why you told her to step aside! That has never made sense to me. I couldn't figure out why you would tell a muggleborn that there was no need for her to die and try to get her to move. Not my father, the pureblood, but my mother."

Both men turned to the boy in surprise. Severus was trying to process that the Dark Lord had at least tried to honor his request. Before he was able to wrap his mind around the idea the boy started to laugh. It was edged in hysteria and neither himself nor the Dark Lord knew what to make to it. Perhaps Potter had finally reached the edge of his questionable sanity.

Once the momentary shock seemed to have worn off, he saw a look of irritation flash across his Lord's face and the man quickly shot a stinging hex at the boy, "Potter calm down. What has gotten you so worked up to regress you to this mess?"

Potter quieted, but the somewhat hysteric edge was still there lining his voice, "You don't get it do you? You're the one who is overly fond of powerful numbers Tom. Three times. You asked her to step aside three times. You gave her a choice and enforced it with the number three. That choice enabled her to willingly sacrifice herself for my life. That's how I survived. How many mothers have died for their children and not achieved a similar effect? They didn't willingly forgo the option to just walk away handed to them by a magically powerful being and amplified by a magical number." The laughter bubbling under the surface he pointed to Severus, "In a way, he's the reason I'm still alive." Then he devolved into giggles.

Severus was assaulted by emotions he had buried long ago. He was dimly aware of Potter's continued hysterics and the Dark Lord's frozen expression, but everything seemed to fade away in light of what he had just learned. The Dark Lord had tried to honor his request and while Lily had still died, he at least had a hand in the survival of her son. A part of her still lived because of his desperate actions. He felt a weight lift from him at that revelation. He looked at the odd scene of an irritated, but not irrationally enraged Dark Lord trying to calm down the golden brat himself and for the first time in decades felt the smallest glimmer of hope.

* * *

It took a few minutes and many stinging hexes from His Darkness, but Harry eventually managed to calm down. He could not believe that Snape was the reason he survived that night. Snape! The greasy git of the dungeons who despised all things Potter and stalked the hallways like an overgrown bat while reshaping the boggarts of impressionable youth. Considering his weird bipolar luck he really shouldn't be surprised at such a revelation, but he would never have predicted something like this.

He must have let a few more giggles slip. Tom was eyeing him with distrust and fiddling with his wand pointedly. He took a couple slow, deliberate breaths and felt himself finally calm completely. He nodded to Tom to indicate he had a grip on himself and situated himself so he could watch both men as they conversed.

Tom gave him one more searching look and must have decided that Harry was in fact settled. He looked back at Snape, "To get back to matters of your allegiance Severus, as I have already discussed with you, Potter and myself are currently operating under a cease fire. We have discovered during this time that our goals largely align and should nothing change drastically to upset this balance I do not foresee us coming into conflict even after our objectives have been met. As such the matter of your oath should not be an issue."

Unreadable as ever, the potions master merely nodded, "That is acceptable." Harry would suspect that Snape's facial muscles had atrophied from lack of use if it wasn't for all the sneering, scowling and eyebrow raising he had seen the man do over the years. It must be the black eyes. Those eyes could not be natural. Having black eyes was one thing, but Snape's were like looking into an endless void. Maybe it was an effect of the heavy occlumency he knew the man constantly employed. Although Tom was also a skilled occlumens and his eyes did not have the same effect. Where Snape's glares felt like you would drown in the abyss, Tom's felt like they would burn your very soul. Maybe he was just reading too much into things.

He refocused and realized he must have missed part of the conversation. They were discussing the summer schedule for Hogwarts. For some reason Tom was insistent on having the 'final battle' at Hogwarts. Something about symbolism. Harry didn't really care where they fought, but the man really enjoyed his dramatic flare, no matter how much he denied it, so Harry had agreed to Hogwarts. They both agreed that it would be a good idea to avoid any foolhardy students -Tom said Gryffindors, Harry said children- getting in the way and getting themselves hurt or killed. The population being what it was, they really couldn't afford careless casualties. This essentially boiled down to the battle taking place during summer vacation. They still needed enough witnesses to be credible and they needed Harry to make a notable appearance and show of vanquishing Voldemort. Which brought to mind an idea.

Interrupting whatever they were saying, "Could we bring Professor McGonagall into this without her alerting the rest of the order?"

Both men paused and looked at him. Snape sneered, "What are you going on about now Potter?"

Looking at Tom, "Well you said that the biggest issue will be to ensure enough people are there and that I need to announce my presence so there isn't any doubt as to who defeated Voldemort. You also made it apparent that you refuse to be defeated by somebody who does not appear skilled or powerful. We both know I'm not a match for you in a duel and it will take much more than a few months for me to catch up. So what if we stage a few things?"

He turned back to Snape, "One thing that everyone who goes through Hogwarts knows is that you can't apparate in or out of the school. If Tom where to show up with his forces on the grounds of the school and openly declare to face me, he would bring everyone's attention to one point of focus. He could also set a time limit that he was willing to wait before unleashing his forces. This will allow the Order and maybe some aurors to gather in the interim without it looking overly suspicious."

"Then we have McGonagall make an exception in the wards, and I know this can be done for all that Dumbledore liked to keep up appearances, to allow me to apparate in. Without doing anything else we've set the stage with the impression that I must be powerful if I can force my way through thousand year old worlds. It's such ingrained knowledge that you can't apparate into Hogwarts that I doubt anyone would think to question that I might have managed some other way. Then we can have a flashy battle and hopefully avoid the whole gratuitous slaughter thing."

Either they were both stunned speechless at the brilliance of his plan or they were questioning his sanity. Again. Tom's expression was always hard to tell between the two and Snape looked like Snape always looked. You'd think he could be a bit more expressive just to avoid confusion. Instead it's always that unreadable look with those too black eyes. Or yelling.

Finally Tom reacted, "That might actually work. Severus do you think we could convince dear old Mini to help her favorite little lion?"

Oh. So Snape did have facial expressions. Apparently all it took was the big scary Dark Lord to crack a small joke. Harry wondered what Snape would do if he saw Tom genuinely laugh.

Apparently not even Snape could let that comment go unremarked upon, "Dear old Mini my Lord?"

Tom gave a smug smirk, "Ah yes. After all we where in Hogwarts together for a couple of years."

Harry could only stare. It was so easy to forget just how old the other man was. His appearance just did not match up. Even if you shaved over a decade off due to being disembodied spirit and maybe another one or two lost to madness. Harry was drawn out of his thoughts by a slight cough from Snape.

"Of course. I suspect that if she was presented with proof and a reasonable explanation that it would not be difficult to persuade her. She has been growing increasingly discontent with the methods employed by Moody. Her disapproval is most apparent when Moody makes mention of his plans to capture Potter."

Harry couldn't help the grin at hearing that, he always had liked his old Head of House, "Well it looks like I need to take a trip to Hogwarts then." He was just going to assume that look was because of the brilliance of his plan. No other explanation for it really.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe.

"dialogue"  
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 _AN: As always thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved and followed! Your support makes my day!_

* * *

Severus stalked the hallways of Hogwarts. As he went, he took some satisfaction in watching the dunderhead students flee from his path. The familiarity of the action was a soothing balm to his tattered world view. Here away from all things Potter, he could almost believe that nothing had changed and their world wasn't about to be thrown on it's head by a force of chaos nobody could hope to predict. Worse still, that he would be helping it along.

He reached the stone gargoyle and gave the password. Not waiting for the stairs to carry him he made his way to the top and knocked on the door. He entered when called for to find Minerva seated at her desk.

She looked up from her work, "Severus! I must say that I'm surprised to see you. Did some of the students get into trouble again?"

Severus sneered "Undoubtedly. However, that is not why I am here."

She peered at him through her glasses and sighed when he did not continue. With a wry smile she prodded, "And why is it that you are here then?"

Severus glanced around at all the portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses, "This is a matter of utmost caution. It must not reach the wrong ears."

At that she raised a brow, but assured him, "The portraits, as you know, are bound to the head position Severus. They cannot divulge secrets without my approval. What has you so worked up? And take a seat already, I have no desire to earn a crick in my neck staring up at you."

Severus sat and paused to consider his wording, "I have recently had contact with a certain wayward student of yours. He has requested your assistance."

He waited as she thought over his statement and noted the exact moment that it dawned on her just who he meant.

Eyes widening she spoke in barely a whisper, "Harry? Severus you have seen Harry? What of Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley?"

He shook his head, "I have only met with the brat and one other. He made mentioned that his two little friends where elsewhere, but did not elaborate further on the matter. Minerva it is imperative that what I am about to tell you does not reach anyone else. Especially the Order."

Before he could continue they were interrupted, "Severus my boy! It is excellent news that you have at last found young Harry, but are you sure that it is wise to exclude the Order from such business?"

Severus scowled. Even as a portrait the old man could be infuriating. "Circumstances beyond your awareness have changed Headmaster. Why you left that crackpot paranoid fool in charge is beyond me. He will only hinder our plans if he were informed."

Dumbledore's portrait adopted a disappointed look, "Now Severus, it is important that everyone work together to defeat Tom. He cannot be stopped alone."

Severus sneered, "Yes and that is why you sent three teenagers off on a merry chase collecting horcruxes."

Dumbledore went to speak again when Minerva interjected, "Enough! Perhaps Severus, you should explain before the two of you start bickering like schoolchildren."

He turned back to her, "Potter's plans have changed. He is taking a new approach to this war and your assistance will be required for it to succeed."

She furrowed her brow, "What is this new approach and do you agree with him Severus?"

Reluctantly he nodded, "It has some merit."

Amusement shined from her expression, "Coming from you that is high praise indeed. Especially when a Potter is concerned. What is this plan?"

He sneered for good measure, "First you need to know that a horcrux is a severed piece of soul, placed into an item to tether a person to life. Should they die, they will not pass on, but linger. I am sure you can understand the implications. The Dark Lord made multiple such horcruxes."

"What he failed to take into consideration was that the loss of soul would erode at his mind and magic. Each time he created one he fell into a greater madness until he became the monster you know."

Dumbledore was watching him intently, but made no move to interrupt, "Tell me Minerva, what do you remember of Tom Riddle from your schooldays?"

She blinked in surprise, "He was a few years ahead of me, but from what I remember he was rather brilliant. Everybody liked him. He had charm and was very handsome. Everyone expected him to join the ministry and to do great things there. I never understood how that boy went on to become such a monster, but if what you say is true..." She trailed off seemingly lost in the recollection.

Apparently Albus could contain himself no longer, "Ah, but don't let his appearance fool you Minerva. Even when Tom was a student he was cruel. A charming front, but to his loyal he showed a different face."

Severus sneered, "That might be true headmaster, but he was not irrational and so prone to anger. People did not follow him out of fear in the beginning, but genuine loyalty."

The twinkle dimmed and the old man looked at him over his half-moon glasses, "Where are you going with this my boy?"

A small part of him took satisfaction in watching the headmaster's face at his next statement. It was the same part that still resented the old man for forcing his hand in his death, "Potter intends to restore the Dark Lord's soul and have Tom Riddle reform the wizarding world."

Shocked silence. Ah so that was why Potter enjoyed dropping outlandish statements as if they were nothing important. He must admit there was some amusement to be derived from such actions. Not that he would ever say as much to the imbecile.

Minerva was still gaping. It was Albus that recovered first, "My boy, as laudable a sentiment as that is, I am afraid it is not possible. The soul cannot be so easily mended and Tom Riddle would refuse to see reason and press on with his anti-muggle and anti-muggleborn stance. He cannot be allowed such opportunity."

Severus merely examined his nails disinterestedly, "Then I must have imagined when I met with a very restored and sane Dark Lord only days ago. He must not have told me of his change in plans regarding muggleborns. How careless of me. Perhaps one of my potions went awry and I merely hallucinated the whole thing." He allowed his expression to speak of the unlikelihood of that.

Minerva pulled herself together, though she still looked a bit frazzled, "Severus, how can I be sure that Harry is in fact helping in this? I do not mean to discount your word, but it is a lot to believe without any proof."

He smirked and turned to look at Phineas Black's portrait, "I believe Headmaster, that should you visit an old home of yours that you will find all the proof you need."

The man raised a brow, but did not comment as he turned and walked out of his frame.

* * *

Harry was not sulking. No matter what Tom claimed, he wasn't. Both men had quickly shot down Harry's perfectly reasonable plan for him to visit Hogwarts. Just because he was on the run from the majority of the wizarding world did not mean that sneaking into Hogwarts was dangerous. All right maybe a little dangerous, but it wasn't like it would be the first time. He'd had to retrieve that stupid tiara after all. He should prank Tom to wear that tiara around for a day. See how intimidating his death eaters find him when he is sporting all that sparkle.

He huffed again and tried to return to his book. He was stuck in his old room at Grimmauld while Snape got to have all the fun at Hogwarts. He had really wanted to see Dumbledore's face when he found out about Tom's soul. He was still rather bitter that the old man had set him up to die without telling him.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts by a condescending voice, "So I see that the Potion's master was telling the truth when he said you would be here boy. Although I cannot fathom what you hope to gain from these reckless pursuits. Why do you think you, a mere boy, have the right to go against your headmaster's wishes?"

Anger shot through him and he narrowed his eyes at the man, "Things come up and plans change, Headmaster. Perhaps you should ask Dumbledore about his plan to have me walk to my death." He tapped his forehead pointedly, "After all the horcruxes need to be destroyed at all cost don't they?" He tilted his head slightly, "Forgive me if I thought it prudent to seek other options."

The man scowled down at him, scrutinizing, "You are different. What has happened to you boy?"

Harry didn't know what it was. If it was simply the last straw, the one final push needed to make the dam break or being called by that cursed word again. That word he had heard thrown at him so spitefully by his hated uncle and then so reverently by the sheep of the wizarding world. He didn't know if it was the knowledge that Phineas was a Black and a Slytherin and even as a portrait he would know better than to spread such matters around. Whatever it was, it was enough. Harry allowed a slow, dark, humorless smile to spread across his face and then he told the man.

* * *

Severus was growing impatient. He had sent the portrait off to witness the boy over thirty minutes ago and the man had yet to return. How difficult was it to confirm the boy's presence? Surely it did not warrant half an hour.

Conversation had stalled as they waited. Dumbledore was throwing him disapproving looks to which he responded with his own sneers. Minerva was drinking tea and pointedly ignoring the both of them.

Finally the former Headmaster returned to his portrait and Severus was startled to see that the proud man looked disturbed and slightly pale.

"Are you alright Phineas?" Minerva was looking at the portrait in mild concern, "Was Harry there?"

The man cleared his throat and look up, expression unreadable, "Yes, the boy is there. He has confirmed everything that Professor Snape has told us." He looked at Minerva, "I think it would be wise to hear them out Headmistress."

Severus raised his eyebrow at that. What had the boy told him to convince him so thoroughly? He knew that pressing the matter would be fruitless, but it was obvious that something had transpired between the two. He felt another headache start to form and made a mental note to brew more headache cures. He had the feeling that he would be needing them if he was to continue interacting with Potter.

Minerva turned back to him, "Well Severus, what is it that they need from me? I assume it has something to do with Hogwarts." She narrowed her eyes and pinned him with her glare, "Know that I will not allow any harm to come to the students. I do not care what plans they make if it will endanger the children. I might be willing to hear you out, if only because I trust both you an Harry, but I will not simply forget who this man is."

"I assure you that has already been taken into consideration Minerva. No harm will befall the brats. Potter and the Dark Lord have decided to stage a battle here at the school." He raised his hand to stop her protests, "They intend it to occur over the summer when there will be no students present."

"Potter has requested that you assist in calling the Order and aurors to the fight and to allow Potter an exception in the wards so that he might apparate in."

She looked at him confused, "I don't understand. Why would they want to plan a fight at the school? Why give us the forewarning?"

"A battle yes, but not in the way you are thinking of. They plan to stage the demise of the Dark Lord and then set up Riddle under an alias in the ministry. The intend to change things from the inside Minerva. If they succeed in this the war will be over. The only war to continue on will be in the political arena."

"Their goals are not limited to the ministry alone. They have many plans for wizarding education and Hogwarts itself. I know they are hoping to meet with you soon to discuss them."

Dumbledore, the meddlesome fool, of course couldn't remain silent for long, "I do not find it believable that Tom would be willing to throw away the name Voldemort so easily my boy. Do you not think it possible that he is merely trying to trick you? Perhaps he suspects you of being a spy?"

Severus clenched his jaw and tried to reign in his frustration. He sarcastically drawled, "Perhaps Headmaster you would like to ask him yourself? A simple floo call is all it would take."

The two matched stares. Severus contemplated if it would be possible to paint out that infernal twinkle. Perhaps portraits should be a little less realistic. He should have known that the man would manage to meddle even from beyond the grave.

"If he is willing to give an oath of non aggression, that might be for the best. I would like to see this with my own eyes. Perhaps Phineas you could ask Harry to join us? Tell him I will open the floo."

Severus had too much control to show his surprise, but he could admit inwardly that he had not expected that from his colleague. He turned to Minerva and noted that she was being completely serious. He considered for a moment and decided that if nothing else it would be entertaining to watch the Dark Lord clash with Albus' portrait.

* * *

Tom stepped gracefully out of the fireplace into the office. He took in the room and narrowed his eyes when he caught sight of the old fool's portrait. He deliberately avoided looking at it. The old cat was sitting at her desk, shock evident as if she could not believe who was standing before her. Tom smirked at her surprise. It seemed that Severus had failed to mention his return to his old body. Without looking away, he carefully removed his wand, held it up and gave the standard oath of temporary non aggression.

Before anyone had a chance to react, the fire flared green and out stumbled a person with a familiar mop of hair. Potter landed an in undignified heap on the floor and Tom barely refrained from a sigh.

"Potter I thought we discussed how it was not a good idea for you to come to Hogwarts considering you are still technically on the run and in hiding." He added, "And get up off the floor. Typical that even the floo network can't seem to stand your presence for long."

Potter pulled himself upright and started to dust himself off, "You only said it was a bad idea for me to sneak into Hogwarts. I was invite and expected. No sneaking involved. Besides if the ministry or Order does decide to barge in we can just charm Professor Snape's robes a bright sunshine yellow. They will be so stunned they won't even notice me."

Tom turned to the now scowling man and pretended to ponder the statement. He nodded thoughtfully, "Yes, I agree. That would be a suitable distraction." He inwardly smirked as the man's scowl only deepened.

He noted that Minerva was now watching them with her brow raised in continued surprise. If anything their banter only served to heighten her stunned disbelief. Even though it was upon her invitation that he was here at all, she did not seem like she would be collecting her wits before a certain twinkly-eyed menace stuck his abnormally crooked nose into affairs.

As if hearing his thoughts, "Harry my boy! It is a relief to see you well after all this time. I admit I was greatly concerned with your prolonged absence." The jovial expression morphed to the equally frustrating pleasant serenity he always seemed to don in his presence, "Tom I must say that you are looking better than the last time we spoke. I see you have regained your former appearance. I must admit that I am quite curious as to how you managed it." The portrait popped a lemon drop in his mouth and continued to watch him expectantly.

Tom sneered and replied mockingly, "Then it is a shame that I will have to leave your curiosity unfulfilled. Unfortunately, I am not in the habit of sharing personal information with meddling old fools. I am afraid my hands are tied."

The twinkle blasted full force, "Not a problem my boy. It is merely an old man's idle curiosity after all. Although I must insist you tell me what you did to convince poor Harry here to assist you. I admit that I find it hard to believe he would go to you willingly. I find it just as surprising that you have not tried to kill the dear boy yet."

He waited for the indignant outcry from the brat, but a quick glance at Potter told him that it would not be coming. Potter's expression had gone unusually flat as he stared at the portrait of his former headmaster. Tom raised an eyebrow and studied the boy's posture and countenance.

He was rigid with his hands clenched in tight fists. Everything about Potter screamed tense and the boy's emotions told him that he was warring between anger, hurt, betrayal and an odd sense of resignation. The anger being the most prevalent.

Severus was lurking to the side, watching the exchange impassively. Minerva had her lips pursed in disapproval and was shooting a glare at Dumbledore. She looked to be on the verge of interrupting her predecessor.

Then, to his surprise, Potter did speak. It was stilted and the effort it was taking to restrain himself was plain to see, "I went to him first Professor so he couldn't have tricked me. Also he is under oath and cannot harm me while it is in effect."

Dumbledore just peered at the boy over his glasses, "There are ways around oaths my dear boy. You cannot be sure that this isn't just another plot to lure you out. I'm afraid that he likely has other less savory reasons for keeping you alive. I am worried that there is more at work in this situation than you realize Harry."

Something in that typically vague response must have held some greater meaning to Potter. Tom felt a wave of rage hit him and in the moment of his brief disorientation Potter had moved and was standing directly in from of the portrait. A snarled word and wave of his wand and a bubble of silence was erected around the two. Tom raised his eyebrow when he noticed the strength of the spell.

The Headmistress took a hurried step towards the now silently shouting Potter. She raised her wand to cancel Potter's spell. Nothing happened. She tried again. Nothing.

"Leave it. You will not be able to bring down Potter's spell. It was fueled by potent emotions and his own blood. It will only come down when he allows it to or is too exhausted to maintain it."

She turned he glare on him practically hissing, "What do you mean his own blood? I saw no such thing. It was just an area silencing spell. Nothing that would require blood."

Severus, who had been silent since his arrival, clarified, "His hands were bleeding from where his nails had dug into his palms. While normally that would not have much, if any effect on an average spell, his magic was reacting to his anger which triggered the blood that touched his wand. If he had not cast that spell it is likely we would be dealing with rattling objects and broken glass that are more typical to Potter's usual emotional outbursts."

Tom picked up the explanation, "The result of which you see here. An overpowered silencing dome that is keyed solely into Potter's blood and magic." It was actually quite impressive. Not just any wizard would be able to achieve the effect. Most wouldn't have the raw power to fuel something of this nature.

He watched as Potter continued to shout at the old goat. The twinkle completely absent from the man's eyes. Potter eventually tapered off, breathing heavily from all the yelling. The old man was looking stricken, but his face practically crumbled at whatever Potter said next. The two faced each other. Potter again looking tired, worn, and too skinny. Dumbledore looked older than Tom had ever seen him in life. What had the boy said to the man?

After another few moments where the whole room waited in tense silence, Potter raised his wand and casually broke his spell. With a final almost regretful glance at the Headmaster he turned and without a word took a seat next to Tom.

He ran his hands through his hair, "Sorry about that. I hadn't thought about there being a portrait here when I left." Then almost to himself, "I don't know how I forgot about it."

Minerva snapped herself out of her shock and drew herself up sternly, "Mr. Potter that is no way to treat the Headmaster, portrait or otherwise. Just what was so important that you could not discuss it in a calm reasonable manner?"

The boy smiled sheepishly, "Sorry Professor, but that's something between me and the Headmaster. You know I've never been the best at keeping my temper."

Her lips pursed, but there was fondness as she looked at the boy, "I remember that quite clearly Harry. You were rather notorious for you temper during your fifth year."

He grimaced, "Yeah that year was not my best." Then he turned a glare to Tom, "That was actually partly your fault you know. With your constant obsessing over the prophecy. I had dreams for months about that stupid ministry hallway."

Tom raised his eyebrow at the boy and responded dryly, "My condolences."

"So you really are him then." Minerva was openly scrutinizing him, "I must say that I had not expected you to look so similar to the Tom Riddle I knew from school." A wry look crossed her face, "And so young."

There was steal in her gaze as she continued, "You should know that the only reason I have allowed you here today is that I trust the judgement of these two boys. If you so much as harm a hair on either's head or any of my students I will personally show you why it is that Hogwarts is considered a place of safety despite any who try to break down her doors."

He had to give it to her. She exemplified the better qualities of her house admirably. If only more Gryffindors would follow her example. A pity that most of them seemed to equate bravery with loud and brash.

He inclined his head in acknowledgement of the threat. He might not be convinced that she could truly stop him if he did decide to attack the school, but he would concede that it would not be easy.

"I have no intention of anything of the kind so long as I am not provoked. As I am sure Severus mentioned the battle to take place here is mostly for show. Potter and I both agree that unnecessary deaths is something to be avoided."

She furrowed her brow, "I must say that is not something I would have expected from you of all people. Why this sudden change of heart?"

Tom caught Potter's grin from the corner of his eye and inwardly groaned. He knew that look all too well. If the expression on Severus face was anything to go by, the other man was equally wary.

"I don't know if it was so much a change in heart Professor as it was being bashed over the head with cold hard facts. Repeatedly."

Tom shot the brat a glare and only received that cheeky grin for his trouble.

"I am not incapable of reason brat. As unbelievable as it is, your arguments were well presented and sound."

The grin didn't falter, "Oh so you didn't spend weeks running around trying to refute my claims in anyway you could manage? I bet you even snuck a few blood samples to test the lineage of a few muggleborns. If you hadn't been under oath to give my research fair consideration I bet you would have set it on fire out of shear stubbornness long before you even came close to accepting the results."

Tom felt his eye twitch. It irked him how accurate Potter was. He had in fact tested a few muggleborns and squibs. He made a mental note to foist Nagini on him for a week in revenge. Her newfound camaraderie with Nimsey was starting to unnerve him. He would never admit it, but it was eerie whenever he came across the pair of them together. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were plotting something.

He leveled a glare at the brat, "I am a dark lord Potter. I do not simply blindly accept whenever somebody questions my methods. You are lucky that the oath prevented me from torturing you for the impertinence."

He felt his eye twitch again when Potter's only response was to wave airily, "Yeah, yeah. Pain, torture, menacing glares, intimidating aura, use whatever you want. Doesn't change the fact you just didn't want to admit you were wrong." That cheeky grin again, "Which you were by the way."

A sort of strained cough which sounded suspiciously like an attempt to stifle a laugh came from the former transfiguration professor. She looked at the two of them in clear amusement, "I see. Well if you truly mean no harm to the students then the least I can do is hear you out. Severus stop skulking over there in the corner and join us like a civilized adult." She leveled her stern gaze at the three of them, "I trust that you gentlemen will explain everything and that I won't find out later that somebody failed to mention anything important."

Tom inwardly sighed. Leave it to Potter to reduce his intimidating reputation to shreds in the matter of minutes. With a glance at the still oddly subdued and silent portrait of one Albus Dumbledore, he took consolation that it was not just him the boy seemed to throw wholly off balance. Although he resented the implication that he shared any common ground with Dumbledore. Perhaps two weeks with Nagini would be better. He pushed the matter out of mind for now and turned back to the conversation at hand.

* * *

He paused outside the building and not for the first time questioned the intelligence of this plan. Lucius looked at the flashing displays and garish orange color and felt the sneer of disgust cross his face. He had no choice, but to follow along for now. He would get Potter back for this indignity.

He supposed though that if this crazy idea of Potter's did work he could grant the boy some leniency. It was such an utter relief to find his Lord sane once more. When he was told that his family would no longer be in danger and that he might even be able to salvage his family name... Well maybe he could let Potter off this once. Not that he would forget the incident. Unfortunately.

As he looked up once more at the orange monstrosity before him he reconsidered his decision to allow Potter off unscathed. He steeled himself, making sure his face was placid as any respectable Pureblood's should be and strode into the store of Weasley Wizard Wheezes as if he owned the place.

At the bucket of glitter that was dumped on his head when he passed through the door, he felt the beginnings of his patience fray. When his attempt at removing the glitter with magic only served to make it start sparkling like little stars, he felt that patience fray a bit more. Finally, when upon setting eyes on him, the two red headed menaces simultaneously reacted by launching some electric blue goop they had been holding at him, he felt his control slip just a bit more. When that gloop started to sing off key muggle romance songs he vowed that he would get Potter back for this. One way or another that boy would pay.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe.

"dialogue"  
" _mental dialogue"  
_ " **parsel"  
** " _ **mental parsel"**_

 _AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved and followed! This chapter was being especially stubborn so I had to leave it for a few days before I was able to come back and finish it._

* * *

Lucius steadfastly held onto his composure in the face of all the suspicious and and distrustful glares being sent his way. In truth, he could not care less about what these 'people' thought of him, but while he was sitting in the middle of the Lion's den, or the hovel that it was, he knew that he could not afford to show any weakness.

"Now I'll ask yeh one more time. What reason would old snake face have to send you here?"

He matched a cool glare to the eye that wasn't roving madly around, "Again, he has no knowledge of my presence here. Since his return, he has become little more than an insane monster and were it not for the wellbeing of my wife and son, I assure you that I would not be here."

Blue eye fixed on him momentarily before it started roving once more, he didn't hold back his look of distaste. How the paranoid auror hadn't killed himself by getting caught in his own traps he had no idea.

Moody snarled at him, "Then why not flee like the coward you are? Why come to us and put on this show? I know you Malfoy. Unless you are getting something out of this then you wouldn't be here. Trying to save your own neck like usual are yeh?"

He looked down at the grizzled man with all the imperious disdain he could muster, "Surely you have not strayed so far from your roots that you have forgotten the importance of family Moody." He stressed the man's last name. Even if other's might forget, Alastor Moody came from a long line of pure bloods and would have been raised accordingly. "I will not ruin my family's name and heir's future by fleeing like a coward as you say. Malfoy's always pick the winning side after all."

As much as the brat infuriated him, he would admit that Potter's side in this war would be the winning one. Had the boy truly gone against his Lord in his maddened state, Lucius suspected the dark faction would have crumbled. Not that he would ever say as much out loud. His Lord might be sane again, but that did not make him suddenly kind. More reasonable certainly, but his Lord still had limits to his tolerance.

The only sound that followed was the unsteady clopping of this paranoid fool's wooden leg as the man paced in front of him. The mismatched gaze never strayed from his face and the suspicion simply oozed out of the bedraggled man's expression. Lucius resisted the urge to cover his face with a handkerchief in the face of such filth.

Finally Moody halted directly in front of him. Squaring off and entering his personal space in a show of intimidation. Lucius did not so much as blink.

The man snarled again, "We'll see about that after you answer us a few simple questions." He pulled back enough to brandish of small vial of clear liquid in his face, "I'm sure you recognize this and if what you say is true, then you won't mind answering a few questions."

Lucius eyed the vial of veritaserum with concealed trepidation. Evidently the Weasley twins did more than simply produce useless pranks. As hard as it was to believe, Potter had had them researching various projects for him. Including, allegedly, a counter to the truth serum. It had to be taken preemptively, but they had handed it over to him in the form of a toffee of all things. Apparently Potter had requested it in that order form he had written up. They had given him plenty of suspicious looks, but had handed it to him without question.

That Potter could get Weasley's to help a Malfoy without question was a truly frightening thought. Especially Weasley's with a reputation like that demonic pair. He withheld a shudder at the implications of Potter's influence. He did not appreciate the treacherous thought that Potter might have more Slytherin in him than anyone realized.

A rough grip pulled his head back and three drops were administered. He felt the familiar haze, but his thoughts didn't feel as distant as they should. He wondered if Severus knew about this.

"What is your name?"

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy."

"Are you a death eater?"

"Yes."

"Were you sent here by Voldemort?"

"No."

"Were you sent here by anyone working for Voldemort?"

"No."

"Are you here to spy for Voldemort or any other death eaters?"

"No."

"Why are you here?"

"To protect my family."

"Name the other death eaters."

He rattled off the names he had prearranged with his Lord and any other information, both falsified and true as it was asked. His Lord had been thorough in his preparation for such questions. The interrogation went on for a few minutes more and eventually he felt the effects of the potion wearing off. One final question did catch him slightly by surprise.

"Do you know the location of or had any contact in the last three years with Harry Potter?"

Now that was interesting. They must be getting desperate if they would go so far as to ask death eaters about the boy's location. Perhaps they thought him captured. He felt a kernel of grudging respect for Potter. Considering how long the boy had hidden from the entire wizarding world, there was definitely more than meets the eye with Potter. No true Gryffindor would be able to pull such a successful disappearance.

"No."

Interrogation complete, there was a slight release of tension in the posture of many present. Although the disdainful looks didn't abate, they appeared far less wary of his presence. Fools.

Moody resumed his pacing and glaring. Fake eye constantly spinning as if possessed of it's own will. Lucius remained silent presenting a mask of disinterest, not about to let Moody think he was the one in control of this conversation. He could snarl and clomp his way around the room all he liked, Malfoy's would always remain superior to his like.

The retired auror broke the silence, "You say you want our protection, but what can you give us in return? Why shouldn't we just hand you over to the ministry?"

He simply raised an eyebrow at what they both knew was an empty threat. Moody would more likely kill him himself before handing Lucius over to the ministry. Rufus might be publicy proclaiming the ministry's competency, but it was only a facade. The ministry was tearing itself apart and Lucius would either be made an example of and Kissed on sight or would be out again before nightfall depending on who got to him first. Moody had been a Slytherin in school, he wouldn't let such opportunity as Lucius represented pass him by.

"Information of course. I am after all one of his higher ranking lieutenants. I will alert you to any future raids and attacks that I hear of and you will vouch for myself and my family when this war is over."

Moody limped over and took a chair, plunking it down right in front of Lucius. He sat, but never removed his wand from his grip, "Fine. Start talking blondie and remember I'll be watching. So don't even start thinking about trying anything funny."

He allowed a look of contempt to leak through at the other man's conduct, but began describing the the upcoming raid the Dark Lord had notified him of.

* * *

"This cannot be a good idea."

Tom shot him unimpressed number five at that, "Are you saying you doubt me Potter?"

Harry threw his hands up in his agitation, "Yes! How is this possibly a good idea? You're always going on and on about me being too reckless and now you want me to go on this raid of yours! Your death eaters will be there! The Order will be there! The ministry might even show up!"

At a look from Tom he conceded, "Well maybe not the ministry, but still! There's so many ways this could go wrong I don't even know where to start."

Tom gave him another look and Harry got the distinct impression that he was somehow rolling his eyes even though the man's gaze did not waver, "I am well aware of who will likely be there Potter. However, you need the experience before our battle and this situation will be relatively controlled."

Harry just stared dumbfounded. Maybe Tom hadn't regained as much of his sanity as he believed. "I have some experience. There was the graveyard and my fifth year. Those were combaty." He really had no other idea how to convince the man that this was a terrible idea.

Exasperation lining his voice Tom kept talking like this was perfectly reasonable, "It is a simple raid Potter. We will go to Diagon Alley, cause some property damage, allow a few of the more troublesome low tier members to be captured, then we will leave. I will allow you to bring Nagini for extra protection and eyes if it will stop you overreacting."

Harry gazed on in horror, trying to find the words, "Tom you know what my luck is like right? Something is going to happen or go horribly wrong and I'm going to get caught in the middle of it."

A flicker of uncertainty crossed the other's face, but was just as quickly wiped away by annoyance, "Enough with the histrionics brat. You are making far too big a deal of the situation. It is a simple raid. Nothing more. Not even your courtship with chaos is likely to interfere in the matter."

Harry considered just outright refusing. Tom couldn't force him to go on this raid for all the man would say otherwise. Then again, maybe he was right. The plan was simple and it would be useful for him to experience a more open combat situation. Perhaps Harry really was getting worked up over nothing.

He continued trying to convince himself that nothing would go wrong (not that it was working) and decided to move onto less stressful topics, "I take it from you planning an actual raid that good old Lucy made contact with the Order?"

Oh unimpressed number two, Tom was apparently trying to mask his amusement at the comment, "He did. He even reluctantly admitted a degree of admiration for your antidote to veritaserum. It is an impressive accomplishment. In fact it makes me wonder what else you and your cohorts have managed to create."

Harry grinned, but said nothing. He knew it would irk Tom to be so blatantly ignored. He couldn't help it though. The man was much too fun to get worked up. Perhaps he could guilt Dumbledore's portrait into divulging the secret of the eye twinkle. Tom would probably have a fit when he used it. Harry barely contained his snicker at the thought.

Tom glared again and Harry decided to take a tiny bit of pity, "People severely underestimate the genius of the Weasley twins. All they see are a couple of pranksters and they never take into account the sheer amount of planning and ingenuity that goes into their pranks. They are both excellent at charms, transfiguration and potions. They have to be after all to make any of their products. If ever I need something new invented, they are always my first choice. Considering how many times I've been threatened with it, something to counter veritaserum was an obvious choice."

Harry hummed thoughtfully, "So if I really am going on this raid, I still say it's a terrible idea by the way, then am I going to be posing as one of your death eaters? After all having Harry Potter show up randomly after years of absence during the middle of a raid on the wrong side would be a bit much. I'm not sure the sheeple's little minds could handle the paradigm shift."

Tom shot him an amused look, "It would likely more confirm the rumors of you plotting to be the next Dark Lord. I'm sure the Prophet would love to speculate whether you are in fact my illegitimate son or if you are just posing as a follower to bide your time before stabbing me in the back and assuming control yourself."

Harry wished he believed that wouldn't actually happen. He knew it would though.

"Dark Lord Potter. Has something of a ring to it. Dark Lord Harry just wouldn't work. I wonder what I should make my agenda when I take over. Since you went the pro pureblood route, maybe I'll try pro creature. Convince everyone that wizards and witches are gifted with magic for the sole purpose of their ability to breed with other species. Become a creature of magic or marry one so that your kids gain creature inheritances. Being a human is inferior. Fur and fangs or bust!"

Tom was eyeing him apprehensively by this point, "I think it best that you choose another occupation Potter. I doubt the world would survive even superficially intact if you were running it."

Harry huffed, "Says the person who was a snake hybrid not so long ago."

Tom merely gave him a flat look and failed to rise to the bait, "Your stance on creatures aside. Be here by 11 tomorrow. Do not be late Potter. You need to be disguised before any of my followers show up. We commence the raid at noon."

Harry groaned, "When this goes wrong, I'm blaming you. Just so you know."

* * *

Harry ducked into an ally just narrowly avoiding spell fire. He knew it. He had told Tom that something was going to go wrong. That this whole take Harry on a raid plan was a terrible idea. He had really been hoping to be proven wrong. No such luck.

 **"Run faster. They are still chasing us. If you would just let me bite them then we could be done with this and I could go back to my rock and nap."**

Harry skidded to a halt and cursed when he came upon a dead end. The anti apparition wards covering most of the alley meant he was stuck.

 **"Nagini I'm going to need you to struggle and pretend to escape from me once they are in view. Then go back to Tom and tell him what happened."**

 **"Only if you give me a rabbit to eat. Or you could let me eat one of the fussy blonde's house elves."**

Harry incredulously glanced at her, but agreed, **"Fine you can have a rabbit. Start struggling with me. Make sure it is convincing."**

She barred her fangs at him and made a good show of trying to take a bite out of him. Harry wasn't entirely convinced that she was actually faking, but the thought was quickly drowned out by the appearance of three figures at the alley's entrance.

"Potter!"

He spun to face the figures and in his 'distraction' Nagini got away and slithered off. He swore at her absence for effect and used the moment to study his pursuers. One man he vaguely recognized from the twin's reports as a newer Order member. Another he couldn't place at all, but he could only assume he was also in the Order. Most troubling was the fact that staring right at him was Mad-Eye himself. He was cornered in a dead end, facing three opponents, one being a crazy retired order, and he himself was dressed like a death eater. He was going to kill Tom if he got out of this.

"Moody! We can't let that snake escape! I've been trying to find a chance to capture her for months and if she reports back then I might not get another!"

"I don't care potter. You're coming with us."

It was a good thing he didn't actually need to catch Nagini or Mad-Eye would have just let a horcrux go. Paranoid old coot. It was no wonder the Order never made any progress in the war. Everything they did was reactionary.

Harry prepared himself and quickly grabbed one of the anti-veritaserum candies from his pocket and ate it. If the order had used the truth serum on Malfoy, he had little doubt Moody would dose him at the first opportunity.

The spells started flying and while Harry had improved greatly since he started training with Tom, that didn't mean that he was a match against three people. Especially when one of them was Alastor Moody. He held out for a little while, but eventually a spell clipped his shoulder and his whole arm instantly went numb. His wand went flying off to the side somewhere and disappeared in the shadows. The next thing he registered was a red light of a stunner and the world went dark.

* * *

He woke up to the uncomfortable feeling of being bound to a chair and cracked open his eyes to see a room full of people. He recognized Moody and Shacklebot, grunts one and two from the alley, Vance and Doge. There were a handful of others that he couldn't place. Snape and Malfoy were absent which was hardly a surprise. McGonagall was also absent, but she had a school to oversee so also not much of a surprise. Unfortunately, the twins were also not present. He wasn't sure if it was because Moody didn't trust them near Harry or because their shop was in Diagon and might have taken damage. Actually now that he thought of it, none of the Weasley's were there. Too close to Harry then.

Moody paced intimidatingly in front of him, "Normally I'd ask where you've been this whole time lad, but I don't trust that you'll answer me truthfully. So I'm just going to skip that and go straight to other methods."

He nodded to some one and they approached him with a small vial of clear liquid. Harry was going to have to get the twins something very nice when he got out of this. The drops where administered and he felt the fuzzy feeling coat his mind.

"What's your name?"

"Harry James Potter."

"Are you a death eater?"

"No." Like he would ever agree to be a minion. Those tattoos were ugly.

"Do you work for Voldemort?"

"No."

"Why are you dressed as a death eater then?"

"It was a disguise so that I could get close enough to capture Nagini."

"What do you want with the snake?"

Harry thought quickly. Should he mention the horcruxes? Tom wouldn't be happy, but it wasn't like she was still a horcrux. It would probably get Moody to back off a bit though.

"She's one of Voldemort's horcruxes."

Most people had confused looks on their faces. It was a rather obscure bit of magic. Moody however focused on him intently. He obviously knew what they were.

"Horcruxes. Plural. How many are there boy?"

"There were six. Nagini is the last."

"So that's what you've been doing this whole time? Why did you not tell the Order?"

"Yes. Dumbledore told us not to. The less people that knew the less chance he would find out and move them."

Moody just grunted, "Where are Granger and Weasley?"

"I don't know."

Moody didn't comment. He just raised his wand and pointed it at Harry. Another stunner was the last he knew.

* * *

Tom was in a foul mood. They had just returned back from the alley and he had dismissed his death eaters. The raid itself had been successful with one glaring exception. His eye twitched in annoyance just thinking about it.

Nagini had come back alone carrying the brat's wand in her mouth. He looked down at her where she sat wrapped around his shoulders and resigned himself to the upcoming conversation.

 **"What happened Nagini?"**

 **"Everything was fine. There were flashing lights and a lot of noise, but I was keeping them at bay with my fierce and majestic presence. None would dare come close and face my mighty venom."**

Tom withheld a sigh, **"While I don't doubt your prowess in battle Nagini, if you could move on to what happened to the boy?"**

She shot him an annoyed look, **"One of the lights bounced off something and knocked off the white face he was wearing. He ran and said we would be leaving so that he wouldn't be recognized. He was spotted though and we were chased."** She pouted, **"He wouldn't let me bite them."**

 **"We ended up in a place where he couldn't run anymore so he told me to pretend to be struggling with him and trying to escape and find you. I put up a worthy fight and hid in the shadows. Then they took him away and I grabbed his stick and found you."**

She suddenly raised her head to eye level and very seriously stated, **"You owe me a rabbit. The boy said I could have one. I don't want one of those stringy ones. It must have plenty of meat. Nothing with long hair. It should be-"**

He pinched the bridge of his nose, **"Nagini I will get you a rabbit. Let me find the boy first and you can have two."**

She appeared to consider his offer then flicked her tongue and nodded in agreement. Tom spared a moment to wonder when she had picked up nodding as an action, but pressed on with more important matters.

 **"What can you tell me about his captors?"**

 **"There were three. The one in the front had a fake leg and looked like a gnarled tree."**

Damn. Of all the people to catch him it was Alastor Moody. He checked his connection with Potter, but he must be unconscious. He wasn't getting anything over their link.

He walked to his study and sat down behind his desk. There wasn't much he could do until Potter regained consciousness and contacted him. He could only hope the boy had had the presence of mind to take the antidote to the truth serum. Things would go very badly if the Order found out their plans too soon.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out Potter's wand. It was an unusual sensation. He didn't feel the same connection as he did with his own wand, but he could tell that Potter's wand would work well for him. It brought to mind the long shelved thought about how their wands connected back in the graveyard.

For a time he had been obsessed with getting a different wand, something that could overpower the boy's own. He had looked into myth and legend and tried to follow the path of the elder wand throughout history. After all what more powerful wand could he find than the death stick? He had eventually tracked it down to Dumbledore, but the man's wand had gone missing after his death and Severus didn't know if his defeat of the man had transferred ownership or not. Now that he knew the old man had allowed himself to be killed, he doubted that it had. Would the power of the wand have died with Dumbledore or could anyone claim it now? Assuming the wand was ever found.

With Potter going missing shortly after that incident he had let the matter drop. Now that he held the boy's wand in his hand, all those old questions resurfaced. They felt too alike. Although still different. His white yew contrasted sharply with the black of Potter's holly wand. He could only conclude that they shared similar cores. Two Phoenix feathers from the same bird would certainly explain why their wands had connected that night. It was curious how he and the boy were destined for such similar wands.

He felt a niggling at the back of his mind alerting him to Potter's return to consciousness.

 _"Potter please explain to me how you managed to muck up something so simple in such a grand fashion?"_

A flare of annoyance, _"Hello to you too Tom. I'm doing just lovely here. Don't worry they haven't done anything too bad to me. I still have all my limbs after all. So good of you to ask."_

 _"Save yourself the sarcasm Potter. I can tell you aren't hurt. To get captured by Moody of all people. You really don't do things by halves."_

 _"I did warn you. Multiple times. You are the one who insisted I go on that stupid raid. I don't know whether to be relieved that more people didn't recognize me or annoyed that the ones who did were from the order. Moody wasted no time in using veritaserum by the way. Don't worry though. They think I was just disguised as a death eater to get close and capture Nagini."_

Tom narrowed his eyes in suspicion, _"Precisely what reason did you provide them for wanting to get close to my familiar Potter?"_

A sense of unease leaked across their link. Potter didn't respond.

He repeated with more force, _"Potter what did you tell them?"_

 _"It isn't like she still is a Horcrux! I had to explain my absence somehow and Moody wouldn't have accepted anything less as an excuse. I told them Nagini was the last one so there really isn't anything for you to get worked up over. Just tell her to avoid the Order and she'll be fine."_

Tom forcibly reigned in his temper. The damage was done and there were more pressing problems. He would just take his frustration out on Potter during their next training session. Which of course meant he had to get the brat out of there first.

 _"Where are you?"_

 _"No idea. Some house I think, but I haven't seen much of it. I think I'm in an attic going by the pointed roof and tiny window. I'm locked in though and don't have my wand."_

Tom idly started twirling Potter's wand as he thought on the situation, _"I know. Nagini brought your wand back with her. Tell me Potter, did you know that our wands share a core?"_

A fleeting moment of confusion at the topic shift, followed by a rush of comprehension, _"Yeah I know. Ollivander told me when I first got my wand when I was eleven. The feathers in our wands came from Fawkes. They're the only two feathers he ever donated."_

Tom felt his eye twitch again. He spent years trying to figure out the reason their wands connected and Potter had known since day one. He really needed somebody to torture in order to vent. The amount of frustration and stress originating from Potter was getting ridiculous.

He rubbed at his temples to stave off the growing headache. He had to think of a way to get to the boy without creating more problems. They could maybe just leave Potter with the Order, but many of their plans hinged around people being in the right place at the predicted times. While they could reliably assume that the order would show up anywhere Potter was spotted, the same could not be said if they already had the boy. No they had too much left to prepare for Potter to stay where he was.

 _"You need to escape from there Potter. We do not have the time to rework our plans around your capture."_

 _"That's easier said then done. I don't have a wand and Moody is as paranoid as ever. This room is completely empty. It's just the door and the window..."_

Potter trailed off and suddenly Tom was hit with a smattering of feelings. Dread, excitement, trepidation, and curiosity flooded from Potter's side. Tom had the sinking feeling that Potter had just come up with another of his reckless plans.

 _"What have you realized Potter?"_

Hesitantly as if he were thinking it over as he spoke, _"I think I have an idea. I'm not sure I can pull it off, but it's probably my best chance to get out of here quickly."_

 _"Potter what is this plan? Why do I get the feeling that I am going to disapprove of it?"_

Amusement, _"Probably because you will. I think I'm going to try it. If it doesn't work then I'll just have to figure something else out. Hopefully I'll be able to at any rate. Now hush I need to concentrate,"_

 _"Potter! What are you doing?"_ He didn't continue as he was suddenly hit with a wave of pain coming from the boy and then all the feelings muted.

 _"Potter?"_

No response.

 _"Potter answer me now or I swear I will crucio you at the first opportunity!"_

Nothing. With a growl of frustration he stood from his desk and stalked off to the training room. He needed to let off some frustration or he was going to flay the skin off the next person he met. He conjured a slew of dummies with an uncanny resemblance to a certain green eyed imbecile and started casting.

* * *

Tom was back in his study. Hours had passed since he had last spoken to the brat and nothing had changed. At least he was calmer after his session demolishing Potter clones. That had done wonders to relieve his frustrations.

He once more reached for his link with the brat-who-lived-to-drive-him-crazy and encountered the same muted feelings as before and nothing else. He didn't know what Potter had done, but the only thing he could do was wait.

He reached for the link again and sneered at the lack of change. He hadn't gotten any work done since he last spoke to the aggravating boy. He just couldn't focus and all the complications Potter's imprisonment or whatever he was now kept swirling through his mind. He did not appreciate this inability to do anything or even know what was happening. Potter would regret putting him in such a situation.

His mental plotting of Potter's soon to be misery was interrupted by the sound of flapping wings. He turned to his window expecting an owl and raised an eyebrow at the large black bird that was winging it's way into his study.

It landed in front of him and Tom noted that it held no letter. He looked at it curiously. The bird looked back. Upon closer inspection it was a raven. The bird broke their staring contest with a dismissive caw and then started to preen it's feathers, ignoring Tom.

He raised a brow at the bird's behavior and reached out a hand towards it. He quickly pulled it back when the bird snapped at him and gave him a hard look with it's green eyes before resuming preening.

Tom paused. Green eyes. Raven's typically had black eyes. He closed his eyes and fought to maintain calm. Well at least he knew what had happened to Potter. The brat was sitting on his desk right in front of him.

Tom couldn't contain the sigh. Potter had obviously attempted the animagus transformation and not quite gotten it right. That explained the pain he felt from the boy earlier and the odd muted feelings coming from the link. Potter likely hadn't been fully prepared for the transformation and the bird instincts had won out over the boy's own mind. It was a wonder he had flown directly to Tom and not gotten sidetracked by some park on the way. So stupidly dangerous. Potter could have completely lost himself and nobody would have found him.

He eyed the bird again and half debated just shoving the brat in a cage and keeping him there. At least he would be less prone to getting himself into trouble. He knew it wasn't a viable option however. The longer Potter spent like that the harder it would be to restore him. Also if he was honest with himself a bird Potter would still find a way to be a menace.

He pointed his wand at the brat and shot off the spell to reverse the transformation. Potter quickly grew to his larger size and promptly fell off the desk. The thump followed by a groan of pain when he connected with the floor was deeply satisfying.

"Ow. My head feels like it was trampled by a herd of hippogriffs."

"You are very lucky that is all you have to show for that reckless stunt you just pulled. Surely you are aware how dangerous forcing the transformation is?"

He saw a hand appear over the edge of his desk and wave haphazardly, "I know. I know. I've been working on it for awhile though and I am getting pretty close. I just haven't quite worked up to the full body transformation. The window wasn't big enough for me to get out of otherwise and it really was the only way I could think of to get out of there."

The hand flopped back down to the ground, "Uhg everything hurts. I think I'm just going to lay here for awhile. Don't mind me. Carry on with your Dark Lordy duties."

Tom gave up. If Potter wanted to lie on the ground let him.

"Oh right. Before I forget, you owe Nagini a rabbit. Try to make it a good one."

"Potter?"

"Yes?"

"Do be quiet."

Silence reigned for about half a minute then a snicker, "Moody's going to be so peeved when he finds me gone."

Tom threw a silencing charm at the brat and called Nimsey for a headache reliever. He decided he wasn't going to get anymore work done that day and settled in with a book. The stress of the day slowly dissipated and Tom would forever deny the kernel of relief he felt upon Potter's safe return.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe.

"dialogue"  
" _mental dialogue"  
_ " **parsel"  
** " _ **mental parsel"**_

 _AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved and followed! I intended to post this last night, but there was a small incident involving a mouse and it's very much unintentional and sudden capture. A word of warning. Mice can jump surprisingly high.  
_ _On another note, I've been tossing around the idea of a Nagini and Nimsey adventure as a one shot. However, I won't start writing it until I've gotten the next chapter of ODT out. So seeing as there is time before I start on it, if you have any ideas or prompts for the duo's escapades send me a pm._

* * *

Harry found himself once again sitting in Tom's office. He wasn't really sure why he was even here today. They hadn't planned on meeting and he didn't have any new ideas to run past the man. Tom was busy going over reports from the most recent raid, one Harry had not participated in, and he was engrossed in his task.

Harry had been bored though. Grimmauld place had felt oppressive in its musty silence and his thoughts had kept drifting to places better left alone. He had just needed to get out for awhile and he had automatically come to Tom's manor. So here he was occupying himself by practicing his animagus form while Tom sat at his desk working. It wasn't unpleasant and that thought in itself was mildly alarming. He had realized some time ago, to his utter shock, that he actually considered the man a friend.

His thoughts wandered. The date for their 'final battle' was rapidly approaching. They had planned it for early August. The timing was delicate. They needed enough time to discredit Scrimgeour before the fall session of the Wizengamot, but they also needed his defeat of the Dark Lord to still be fresh on everyone's minds so that they seriously considered his opinion for the next minister. The fall session was at the end of September coinciding with the autumn equinox as per tradition.

They would have a little under two months to rile the public over the ministries ineptitude in the face of Voldemort and it's inherent corruption. It wasn't much time especially considering Tom would be a virtual unknown in the political arena. He would be taking up the mantel of Lord Guant which, despite the reputation of more recent generations, was a name that still carried some clout in their world and would be recognized. As the Guants were known descendants of Slytherin, Tom would claim his absence was due to laying low to avoid the attention of the Dark Lord. That would also serve as his motivation to back Harry in opposition of Voldemort.

Additionally, a handful of his followers were in the position to vouch for him without drawing the wrong kind of scrutiny. They were from typically neutral families and while not as affluent or respected as say the Malfoy's they would be enough to provide validation. Some pretty words from Tom about new beginnings and Harry's ringing endorsements would also go a long way to ensure their victory.

Lucius was already discreetly working the pureblood circuits, putting forth the suggestion for a vote of no confidence if the minister didn't willingly step down. He might be a fugitive, but he was still influential. They had also been gathering evidence against the current minister regarding his abuse of power and mismanagement of government resources. Harry was planning a trip to have a chat with a certain bug to ensure that the press remained on their side. In short Scrimgeour's days as minister were numbered.

Harry sighed at the looming prospect of all the work they were facing. He tried to shift his thoughts back to the present and peered down at his feathered arm critically. It might have been horribly dangerous, but he couldn't deny that he had been making great progress with his animagus form since he had forced it a few weeks ago. Having experienced the full transformation had given him valuable insight into the process. He hoped to have it down before the battle as a backup escape method. Just in case.

After the fiasco where he had been captured, Tom had decided he wasn't allowed out on raids anymore. Harry had laughed at this declaration with no shortage of 'I told you sos'. Tom had not been amused and had silenced him again. Harry had just laughed harder in response despite the silencing.

Instead of raids Tom had upped their training and had even enlisted Snape to help on occasion. Harry was of the opinion that the pair of them took far too much delight out of making him suffer during their practice sessions. He couldn't deny the results though. He had improved greatly and would be able to put up an impressive show for the spectators at the very least. He was unspeakably glad that he wasn't going up against Tom in a fair fight. The man still swept the floor with him whenever they sparred.

Everything was coming together which brought him to one more thing he needed to handle soon.

"Hey Tom?"

Tom made an absent noise in response. Harry glanced over and realized the man was completely focused on whatever he was doing. Harry smirked. Well if the man was going to zone out with Harry in the room then that was his own fault.

Harry started silently conjuring a multitude of Gryffindor colored small rubber balls. When he had a reasonably sized pile of several dozen, he levitated them up in the air. Then he carefully maneuvered them to right above Tom's head, taking care to keep them out of the other's peripheral vision. He let them fall.

The resulting scene Harry was sure he would treasure forever. Tom let out an undignified squawk and jumped up from his seat wand brandished. He shot off a banishing charm at the first sign of movement. This only served to send many of the red and gold bouncy balls zooming all around the room. They collided with others in a chain reaction of mayhem. They were flying everywhere and Tom stood in the middle looking utterly dumbfounded as he was pelted with the small projectiles.

That was all Harry could handle. He cracked up laughing which immediately snapped Tom's attention to him. The man gave an impressive glare that was completely wasted as Harry was having trouble breathing he was laughing so hard.

Tom waved his arm in an arc and vanished all the bouncy balls. Then he returned his glare to Harry and in a low tone filled with irritation, "What is it that you want Potter?"

Harry tried to answer, but all he managed were a few incomprehensible wheezes. He clutched at his sides and focused on breathing so he could calm down enough to talk.

Tom saw this and sighed resignedly, "Is it not enough that your very presence incites chaos? Do you really need to deliberately create more?"

Still chuckling Harry finally managed to respond, "You should have seen your face. That was bloody brilliant."

Tom scowled and leveled unimpressed number six on him. Then in a supremely dry voice, "Was there something you needed or do I need to find something to occupy your time more productively? You are more than welcome to go try and uncover whatever it is Nimsey and Nagini are conspiring. I am growing increasingly concerned that if left unchecked they will try something."

He stared at a wall that Harry knew was in the direction of the kitchen's and mused aloud, "More worrying still is the chance that they might succeed."

Harry followed his gaze and suppressed a small shudder. He had also noticed the pair together on more than one occasion. He couldn't help but agree with the man that it was slightly disconcerting how well they got along. He hoped that Tom never discovered that it was him who had initiated that particular friendship. Tom could get surprisingly creative when he wanted to and Harry would rather avoid his retribution.

He blinked and forcefully pulled his mind back to his earlier thoughts, "Err no. That's all right. I did have something I needed to ask you, but you were completely out of it. That you didn't notice a small hoard of bouncy balls hovering over you is hardly my fault."

He responded to Tom's unamused glare with an innocent smile of his own. Judging by the other's expression, Tom didn't buy his act. Harry felt slightly smug. Tom was generally hyperaware. This wasn't the first time he had tried to prank the man, but it was one of the rare few that had succeeded.

He forcibly sobered and continued, "I need to meet with the Weasleys. The twins have waited quite awhile regarding Lucius, but they want an explanation. I also need to make sure I get to Ginny before she sees you. She would recognize you instantly and we can't afford her saying anything. Other's might be willing to believe you are only a relative, but she would know better. They also need to know not to interfere when I show up to fight you."

He rubbed his face tiredly, "There are other things I need to discuss with them beyond the present situation, but they need to be done in person. I can't just send off a coded letter and call it a good job. Which brings me to my question. How should I go about meeting with them without alerting the order? Considering the fuss Moody has been putting up since our last encounter, I wouldn't put it past him to be keeping an eye on the family in case I might try and contact them."

Tom hummed thoughtfully, "Why not reserve a room at Gringotts? It would hardly be out of the ordinary if the family got together for a trip to the alley and made a stop by the bank. You could simply show up well ahead of them."

Harry furrowed his brow in confusion, "You can do that?"

Tom gave him the 'you are an idiot look', "It is a bank Potter. They have conference rooms for when clients need to meet to negotiate deals and business investments with each other. You mentioned before that you helped fund that joke store. Use that as a pretense if you must."

Harry let out a small groan of agitation, "It's always the little things. No matter how much I learn about the wizarding world, it's things like this that give away that I didn't grow up here. Everybody always assumes that I'm the Boy-Who-Lived and a Potter and thus I just know everything. People always forget that I was raised in the muggle world and didn't even know I was a wizard until I received my Hogwarts letter. It's both convenient and unendingly vexing."

Tom raised an eyebrow at his outburst, "This is hardly a practice that is exclusive to the wizarding world Potter. It is a common practice in the muggle world as well."

Harry just shot him a glare, "Well it isn't as though I ever had money in the muggle world. Or dealt with business investments. I would never have had any need for such a thing. Besides there is nothing you can say that will convince me you don't run into the same problem. Even after all these years."

Tom looked like he was going to protest, but his expression shifted and he slowly nodded, "It is highly infrequent, but on occasion I do run into something that I would have known had I grown up immersed in wizarding culture. However, when I was in school, people initially believed me to be a muggleborn so I ran into assumptions of a different sort. Needless to say I made it a point to remedy the situation."

Harry snorted, "How much of that remedy was learning the customs and how much was intimidating your classmates so badly they wouldn't dare say otherwise?"

Tom just smiled smugly and refused to answer. Harry shook his head at the man. Tom might have charmed the rest of the student body and faculty, but he was under no delusions that Tom had controlled the Slytherin house with warm smiles and sweets. The whole talking to snakes thing probably hadn't hurt either.

He liberated a quill and parchment from Tom's desk and started drafting a letter to the goblins. He was lucky that they hadn't gone through their original plan of trying to rob the bank or this would probably not be possible. Assuming the goblins hadn't simply mounted their heads on pikes somewhere for trying. The books in the Black library on Pureblood family lines, specifically on the heads of house duties and privileges, had clued them into an alternate, perfectly legal way to get the cup out of Bellatrix's vault. Of course it had required him to take up his lordships for both House Potter and House Black, but for a price the goblins had kept that information to themselves.

He finished his letter and pulled out a WWW order form to notify the twins and by proxy the rest of the Weasleys. He was not at all ready for this conversation, but he couldn't put it off any longer. He just hoped that at the end of everything they wouldn't turn on him. Bad enough he had taken away a family member on the run for over two years, but he was now aligning himself with the Dark Lord of all people. Worst of all was the event of six months ago and well... He wouldn't blame them if they wanted nothing more to do with him.

"Do you have an owl I could borrow?"

Tom didn't look up from where he had gone back to his work. He simply summoned Nimsey as answer.

A pop announced her arrival, "What can Nimsey be doing for Master and Mister Harry?"

Harry felt his eyes widen. Nimsey was wearing Nagini on her head like some kind of scaly turban. As far as he could tell the snake was asleep. He opened his mouth to comment and closed it again. His mind had blanked and he didn't even know how to begin addressing this. He stared at the sight and tapped the desk in front of Tom without looking away from Nimsey.

The man gave him a disgruntled glare, but upon find Harry's attention elsewhere he followed his line of sight. Tom froze. No help would be forthcoming from the Dark Lord then. Silence stretched between them while Nimsey continued to look attentive and perfectly at ease like nothing at all was strange with the situation.

Finally Harry managed to weakly ask, "Nimsey, could you send out these letters for me? One goes to Gringotts and the other to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes in Diagon."

Her face lit up and she managed to nod enthusiastically without dislodging the sleeping snake. She took the letters from Harry.

"Nimsey will be mailing these right away Mister Harry sir!"

Then she popped out leaving two stunned wizards in her wake staring at the empty space she had recently occupied.

"Tom..."

"Don't say a word Potter."

"But Tom, your house elf and your familiar.."

"No potter. Not. A. Word. Nothing happened."

Harry shot the man a slightly incredulous look, "Denying this isn't going to make it go away or stop Tom."

The man leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling pleadingly. Harry was starting to wonder if maybe Tom was somewhat religious. Did dark lords have a patron god they prayed to?

"It might not make it go away, but it will not be directly my problem if I do not know. I will also maintain plausible deniability for anything they do. Aside from that, dealing with your special brand of chaos and the incompetence of most of my death eaters is more than enough already. I refuse to delve any further into the madness that is..." He waved his hand noncommittally, "those two's newfound _friendship_."

Tom's disgusted emphasis on that last word reminded Harry of something. He opened his mokeskin pouch and started rummaging through it before pulling out his target triumphantly. He plopped it right down on Tom's desk. He made it a point to put it right in the middle of his paperwork. Harry was slightly curious how many interruptions the man would tolerate before he finally snapped and did something to stop him.

Tom gave him a nasty look for his efforts before picking up the offending object. He turned it over in his hands inspecting it. Harry felt a small bit of smugness when he saw red eyes glint with concealed interest.

While it was just a small decoration for an office or a home, it was beautiful. It was an exquisitely crafted crystal orb that had a stunning likeness of an engraved serpent on it's face. The snake was animated and slid along the face of the sphere in elegant and mesmerizing patterns. It could comfortably fit in a person's palm. It also held enchantments.

"What is this Potter?"

"I found it when I was going through some of the things in the Black vaults. It belonged to the great-great grandson of Salazar Slytherin according to the portraits. I believe it is enchanted, but you will have to figure out what it does yourself. I determined it wasn't harmful, but never took the time to explore it further. You can keep it. I brought it with me to give to you."

Tom gave him an odd look. Harry had a few guesses as to what was going through the man's mind. He doubted Tom got a lot of gifts without an agenda attached.

"Why are you giving me this Potter?"

Harry shrugged, "It seemed like something you might like and I know you value things from your ancestors. When I found it and was told who it once belonged to, I immediately thought of giving it to you. To be perfectly honest it never really occurred to me to keep it."

Tom's expression remained unreadable as he spoke, "So you just give away valuable family heirlooms on a whim Potter?"

Now the man was just being stubborn. Harry thought a moment and decided how he could put an end to this line of questioning. If there was one way to sidetrack Tom it was to imply he had feelings.

"Not on a whim and technically they are heirlooms to your family, not mine. I don't just go around handing out artifacts like the muggles hand out Halloween candy, but if I see something I know a friend would like, I like to get it for them if I can. I have no use for that and I knew you would appreciate it much more."

Predictably, Tom's eyes narrowed, "I am not your friend Potter."

Harry didn't even bother with a pretense. He just raised his hand and started ticking off fingers as he talked, "We spend a lot of our free time together. You let me call you Tom. I just pranked you and instead of threatening crucios you only got mildly irritated. We have inside jokes. Don't even bother to pretend that it wasn't you who changed Snape's robes to fuchsia during our last practice duel. We are plotting to quietly take over and revolutionize Wizarding Britain."

He gave the man a flat, pointed stare and deadpanned, "Yes Tom, we are merely business allies and former mortal enemies. However did I make such a mistake? Silly me."

Harry quickly stood up to head off any protests from the other, "Anyway it's getting late so I should be going."

He wasn't going to give Tom the opportunity to start on about how he was above friendship or some such rot. The idea was out there now. It was probably best to leave the man alone with his thoughts after hitting him with such a topic. It was also truthfully getting late so he started towards the door.

As he was leaving he left a parting remark for the dark lord to stew over, "Just keep the bauble Tom. If nothing else, then consider it a congratulatory gift for successfully putting up with me these past few months."

With that said he exited the room and headed for the apparition point. He had a meeting with a family of red heads to prepare for.

* * *

Severus entered the Dark Lord's study to give his weekly report on the status of preparations at Hogwarts and the movements of the Order. The Dark Lord was obviously working on something and the man indicated with a gesture of his hand that he would be with him when he was finished.

Severus sat in the chair across the desk to wait. He noted Potter's absence, a sight that was becoming increasingly rare as the weeks progressed. The boy always seemed to be around for one reason or another.

He had recently spent far more time in the company of a Potter than he had ever cared to. However. Severus could admit that the boy was not entirely what he expected. He was not, in truth, very much like his father. Although his propensity for getting into trouble and the childish pranks he indulged in posed a passing resemblance, the pranks were small things and harmless. He never even came close to the line of bullying that his father and the mutt so regularly surpassed.

Severus could more readily admit that Potter was also not very much like his mother. She had been a carefree spirit, full of curiosity and enamored with the world of magic despite the flaws that presented themselves due to her muggleborn status. She never quite lost that wonder that was stamped out of so many muggleborns that tried to embrace their world only to be cruelty rejected. She was outgoing, passionate and too stubborn for her own good.

Potter did not share that idealism or outgoing nature his mother had held. He had a curious streak, but it lacked the whimsy. In place of wonder, he held a deep respect for magic itself. What had truly shaken his views on the boy though, we're his insights into their society.

Severus had been given a copy of the proposal and had initially assumed that most or all of the work had come from Granger. When he first opened it to that instruction sheet explaining the enchanted muggle folder, he believed he was going to be reading through another one of her crusades. He had been incorrect.

He could spot Granger's influence, especially in the sections regarding creature rights, but the majority had not quite meshed with what he knew of the girl. She tended to regurgitate everything she read and based many of her opinions on the standards of the muggle world. It was the main reason that the purebloods had so openly snubbed her as opposed to simply ignoring her like they did most muggleborn. The proposal was not what he had come to expect from her and so he had concluded that it was not her who had lead the project.

After he had reached this conclusion, he had not known who had been the driving force behind the reform. He had then assumed the trio had somehow acquired outside help. That was until he had spent time around Potter and the Dark Lord as they worked together. It was as if he had walked into some alternate world. Potter was insightful. Potter was informed and intelligent. Potter had reasonable and well thought out arguments and understood every aspect of the proposal in it's minutiae.

Severus' realization that Potter had been the cohesive voice behind the plan had brought him to a mental standstill. It had taken him a bottle of scotch and a day of being holed up in his quarters reviewing everything he had thought he knew about the boy before he came to the harsh truth. Potter was not his parents and never had been.

He still didn't much care for the dunderhead, the brat was far too unpredictable and reckless, but he could work with him. Potter's rapport with the Dark Lord somehow served the duel purpose of keeping the man's temper in check and providing something of a moral compass so the man didn't resort to the extremes he had in the previous war. The Dark Lord in turn was capable of dealing with the brat's mood swings. Potter could go from joking to serious so quickly one could get whiplash.

The Dark Lord stopped writing and set his quill down. He looked up at Severus and settled back in his chair.

"What news do you bring me Severus?"

"There is not much to report my Lord. Minerva has already taken care of our requests for the battle in two weeks time. She has also been asking around for any recommendations for a history professor. She reasons that while many of our planned changes will have to wait another year, there is no reason to continue subjecting the students to Binns."

"She also has a request for you in particular. She wants you to remove the curse on the defense position. I should mentioned that the particular wording of that request was quite colorful and held more than a few threats should you refuse. I have to say I support her in this matter. I have no wish to continue dealing with the carousel of imbeciles that typically take up the post."

A flash of irritation crossed the Dark Lord's face. Severus worried that he might have overstepped with his candor. He was quickly disproved of that notion however.

"Yes. I am already well aware of the frustrations my little slight against Dumbledore has caused. Potter spent a good twenty minutes ranting about the class and some of the so called teachers that were hired to fill the position. I will remove it during my next visit to the castle."

The Dark Lord paused, appearing to be thinking over the matter, "Which reminds me Severus, it was brought to my attention that you would appreciate being involved in the disappearance of one Deloras Umbridge?"

Severus raised his brow at that, "I would certainly lose no sleep should she suffer a most unfortunate accident. May I ask what brought this on? Why her specifically?"

"Potter was especially vehement when discussing her tenure at Hogwarts. To such an extent that I went to Lucius for a fuller picture on her character and influence within the ministry. While on the surface she might appear to largely support our goals, her staunch stance against creatures, not too mention her personal grudge against the boy, leave me no doubt that she would only prove a hinderance. She doesn't seem to be a person to quietly step aside either which leaves me only the option of removing her through more permanent means."

Severus could not argue with that. Umbridge was a vile woman and was still one of the most hated professors at Hogwarts. Many of the older students remembered her time amongst them and some still bore the scars as proof.

"So you mean to kill her then?"

"Perhaps." A sinister smirk stole over the man's face, "However Potter had some fascinating suggestions that did not involve her death. They ranged from the more benign, such as turning her into a pink toad and leaving her alone in a swamp, to the more malicious of having Fenrir bite her and forcing her to suffer out the rest of her existence as the very thing she despises most. He apparently has no love lost for the women."

Severus could not fully hide his surprise at that. Potter might not have been as he believed, but it was still out of character for him to be so cruelly vindictive. It seemed that even Saint Potter had his limits. That Potter was willing to work past his issues with the Dark Lord who had killed his parents and attempted to kill him numerous times, but would not even grant this women the mercy of an easy death was telling. He must truly and utterly loathe Umbridge.

Another part of Severus' mind wondered if the Dark Lord was aware of just how much weight he was giving to Potter's opinions. Even when the boy wasn't physically present his influence was plain to see. It was odd to see the man working with another person instead of ordering them around. In the earlier days he had been more open to suggestion, but the final decision was always and only the Dark Lord's. He had never compromised to accommodate another person like he was willing to do with Potter. Then again it was possibly because Potter was the only one suicidal enough to argue with the man over anything.

The Dark Lord idly picked up something off his desk and started toying with it. Severus could only tell that it was small and round. Ruby eyes focused once more on Severus, "What of the Order?"

Severus scoffed at the thought of the Order, "As ineffective as ever. Moody has been on a rampage ever since Potter's disappearing act. Half the order is trying to draw out what it was that Potter had been talking about that Moody had reacted so strongly to. The other half are convinced that he's under imperious or some other form of control as they cannot understand why Potter would refuse to work with and help them defeat you. They all blame Moody for not keeping a closer eye on their precious 'chosen one'."

"Neither group have suggested doing anything of their own volition. Now that Potter has shown his face again they immediately reverted to expecting him to pull out another miracle and ultimately save them all. They seem to believe they are nothing more than moral support and shouldn't have to confront you personally. At most they expect to continue stalling the death eaters and breaking up raids."

Severus did not bother to mask his disgust as he spoke on, "Excepting the Weasley family and a few of the older members, most of the newer recruits apparently joined out of desperation and fear. They were hoping that themselves and their families would be protected by joining and worked only to those ends. Now that the true savior has resurfaced they are no longer so willing to risk themselves when there is somebody they can hide behind. No matter that most have never even spoken to Potter or laid eyes on him until his capture."

That elicited a dry chuckle from the other, "Perhaps Potter should have stayed in their company longer. Ten minutes with the boy when he wasn't drugged up on truth serum would have likely been enough to dash those hopes. His irreverence alone would have left most of them askance."

Aristocratic features donned a thoughtful expression. Severus watched as the other placed the object in his hand on the desk between them.

With a gesture of his hand he enquired, "What do you make of this Severus? It was recently gifted to me. Allegedly it was originally owned by the great-great grandson of Salazar himself. I have determined that it holds enchantments to prevent most basic and some more complicated eavesdropping spells from being cast within its vicinity."

Severus carefully picked up the object to inspect it closer. He made a sound of appreciation as he watched the serpent idly trace a path across the crystal's surface, "It is a fine gift my Lord. Even if its origins were to prove false, the practical aspect more than makes up for it. It is also a stunning piece of art."

He placed the orb back on the table. He wondered why the Dark Lord would mention such a thing to him. The man would boast about his power or intellect, but he wasn't one to flaunt his wealth and possessions. He seemed to hold little value of material possessions which implied Severus was being shown this for some other reason.

It seemed his questions were to remain unanswered however. The other man simply took the orb back with a muttered 'Indeed' of agreement and said nothing more on the subject.

"If that is all you have to report Severus then you may leave. I have no new orders for you at present and will alert you should I need your assistance with the Umbridge woman. You may inform McGonagall of my intentions regarding the curse on the defense position."

The man returned to staring ponderously at the crystal sphere and Severus took the dismissal and left to return to the school.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe.

"dialogue"  
" _mental dialogue"  
_ " **parsel"  
** " _ **mental parsel"  
**_

 _AN: Stubborn stubborn chapter. The second half of this chapter gave me all sorts of issue. It was like trying to beat a tin can back into shape after it had been run over by a semi. I knew what it needed to look like, but it just would not come out right. Ah well._

 _Thanks as always to my lovely reviewers and everyone who follows my little corner of fanfic. Until next time folks._

* * *

It was late. Tom sat in his library reading a book and winding down from an exhausting day. He had spent much of the day finalizing plans with all the death eaters who would play an active part in the political arena during the next few months. The final battle was just over a week away and everything needed to be confirmed and last minute details solidified.

As a whole his death eaters were largely taken care of for the upcoming events. Some of the more troublesome and sadistic members had been obliviated of any sensitive information and were slated to be captured either during the battle or during the cleanup afterwards. They were unaware of this of course, but ultimately they were little more than canon fodder. The group consisted mostly of people who had joined for sport and the promise of power instead of any real true determination to see their society improved. They would be nothing more than a hinderance and he would not lose any sleep over their detainment.

The rest had been prepared as necessary. Most member's identities were still unknown to the populace at large. They would be going about their daily lives and send in monthly reports of any pertinent information unless otherwise called upon. They did not know the details beyond his plan to take a more subtle approach. They had been given instructions to continue sending in reports even if he should appear to fall. He had returned once before and this time had assured that his ambitions would be realized even in the face of another temporary absence. Or so they had been informed.

The true challenge that remained was what to do with his loyal followers who had gone to Azkaban after the last war and could not simply integrate back into society. They were almost as notorious as he was, but unlike him, their faces were well known to the public. He would not send them back, but he could also not leave them as they were. Perhaps he could have Potter consult those twins on a more permanent method of disguise. As minister, he should be able to falsify some identities easily enough considering the ministry's current state of disorganization.

Tom looked up at the sound of the door opening to see a haggard Potter walking in. Typically the energy surrounding Potter belied his appearance. It was easy to overlook how underweight and unhealthy the boy was beneath his constant motion and general disposition towards mischief. Tonight that was not the case.

Potter looked as worn and tired as he occasionally claimed he was. The contrast was so stark that Tom wondered how much of that cheeky demeanor the brat often wore was merely a front. While Tom could feel the boy's emotions when he focused on them, that did not mean that he could always fully interpret what they were. Potter remained as much an enigma now as he was when he first contacted the Dark Lord.

"Potter what has brought you here? It is unusual for you to appear so late at night."

Potter looked at him with dull eyes and tiredly rubbed his hands over his face. He sat down heavily in a chair across from him and replied, "I met with the greater part of the Weasley family today. It was not an easy conversation. Three years of absence is difficult to explain."

Tom narrowed his eyes at the boy, "How much did you tell them Potter?

Potter let out a halfhearted huff, "Not everything of course. However, they know me and they would not settle for some weak excuse. Especially not after we've been missing for so long. I couldn't just return in such a spectacular and public fashion without talking to them first. I owe them too much to blindside them like that."

"They don't know who you really are or that the battle is staged. They think it's a trap for Voldemort and they promised me that they won't try to interfere. Of course they wouldn't hear of it until after I told them about the prophecy. They very begrudgingly accepted to stay out of it after that. They also know that the current Lord Gaunt has been discreetly helping with the preparations and planning."

A faint glimmer of his usual humor entered Potter's eye, "As Lord Gaunt, you might find yourself under interrogation from an overly protective matriarch of a certain red headed family as soon as she gets a hold of you. She threatened as much anyway. I have no doubt that she'll follow through either. So look forward to that. I'm sure it'll be a grand time."

The humor was short lived though and Potter sent Tom a slightly accusing look, "At the very least, I managed to head off Ginny. She would have recognized your appearance after spending so much time with your horcrux her first year. You do look just like an older version of your sixteen year old diary self. Except the whole red eyes thing, but that's a giveaway in and of itself for entirely different reasons."

The boy fell silent after his explanation. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back tiredly. Everything in his posture spoke of exhaustion.

Tom narrowed his eyes while studying the figure across from him. Potter wasn't lying, but he was leaving something out. If that's all they had talked about then he doubted the conversation would have left the boy in such a state. Something else must have happened.

He pressed, "How can you be sure she will remain silent? Even if most don't believe her, we cannot afford the doubts such an accusation would plant in the minds of others."

Irritation and guilt flashed across the other's face, "I know because she no longer remembers."

Tom raised his brows in surprise, "You obliviated her Potter? With as abysmal as Severus says you are in the mind arts, I would have thought you would avoid such courses of action."

A dark look stole over Potter's face, "Normally you'd be right, but I've had plenty of practice with that particular spell. I'm not happy about it, but she never would have let it go. You really did a number on her, you know. I only removed the details of what you look like so I didn't need to change much. It should just be a fuzzier image now. She barely saw you in truth, but those kind of impressions tend to stay with a person."

Tom commented with a vaguely impressed tone, "The Boy-Who-Lived skilled at obliviation. I never would have expected to discover that. It might not be classified as dark due to its usefulness in maintaining the statute, but best make sure it doesn't get out that you would manipulate the minds of even your close friends Potter. Careful, lest you tarnish that Gryffindor Golden Boy image of yours. Your public would be most disappointed."

Tom was confronted with the coldest glare he had ever seen from Potter.

The boy responded with hissed venom, "The public sheep can go choke on one of Dumbledore's lemon drops for all I care. The golden boy was as much a farce as any other title thrust upon me and you know that perfectly well. They held me up to an impossible standard before I ever stepped foot in Hogwarts. When I failed to meet their expectations or did something outside of their views of acceptable they turned against me without a second thought."

He gave a humorless smile with far too many teeth, "I was twelve when they collectively reviled me for speaking Parsletongue. I was shunned by the entire student body and the staff did nothing to intervene. I won't even start on the reactions of my fourth and fifth years. I shudder to picture what would have happened had I let the hat sort me into Slytherin like it wanted to when I was only eleven and had known I was a wizard for barely a month."

Green eyes bored into red, "I am long past the days of striving to meet their impossible standards. I am not a messiah, not a savior, not Merlin incarnate. I refuse to be a martyr for a people who will not fight for themselves. Do not fall into the same trap Tom and believe me to be anything other than human."

It was ironic that in that moment Potter had never looked more inhuman to Tom. Those Avada colored eyes almost seemed to glow in the low lighting of the library at night. His hair faded into the shadows with no discernible edges. For a moment Potter looked timeless, neither old nor young, yet at the same time ancient.

The impression was fleeting. In the span of the shortest moment, Potter was back to looking tired, worn, and agitated and Tom almost doubted that he had seen anything at all. However, he was not in the habit of questioning himself or allowing his mind to play tricks. He filed away the image for later inspection.

He also grudgingly acknowledged that he had perhaps pushed a bit too far with his comment. Potter's emotions had been a maelstrom of negative feelings since he arrived, not the least of which was self loathing. He came in already on edge and Tom had admittedly been somewhat callous in his statement. Although he had known that Potter held no love for his fame, he had not been aware just how deep the resentment of his status in their society ran.

He did not outwardly react to Potter's outburst except to quietly summon Nimsey to provide them with tea. Potter was obviously not in the mood for much conversation so he returned to his book and left Potter to his brooding. The boy turned to stare absently into his full cup and the library lapsed back into silence.

* * *

The chimes of a clock striking midnight rang through the room. Harry visibly startled at the sound and came back into himself. He had let himself get drawn into the comfortable atmosphere, the quiet, and his own thoughts. His frayed nerves from earlier had settled some and he no longer felt so strung out.

Having company that didn't badger him for answers or ask about his feelings while he tried to sort himself out was admittedly a nice change. He loved Ron and Hermione, but he couldn't deny that he felt much calmer now than he generally did after they tried to help. He looked back down into his empty cup, he didn't remember drinking it, and felt a bit guilty for snapping at Tom earlier.

"Sorry."

Harry watched the man slowly pull himself out of his book. Tom turned to him with a tiny hint of confusion, "Pardon?"

Harry looked to the side, "Sorry. For snapping at you earlier. I was in a poor mood and took it out on you."

Tom raised an eyebrow at him, a look of amusement crossing his features, "Potter I have cruciod people for less than catching me on the wrong end of a foul mood. I am hardly going to go wallow in self pity and hurt feelings because of your little tantrum. I'm almost offended that you think me so susceptible to your dramatics."

Harry spluttered for a moment. Was the git was trying to be comforting or condescending with that? He sighed. Knowing Tom, it was probably both. Stupid Slytherins and their roundabout ways and backhanded tactics. It irked him even more when he realized that he actually felt a bit better.

He glowered petulantly, "See if I try and be nice again."

If anything Tom looked more amused than he had before. Harry's scowl deepened. He tossed his mind around for something, anything, to change the subject with. A stray thought flitted through his mind and he latched onto it.

"Why do you have a grandfather clock anyway? I can't really see a wizarding household having much use for one. Also how did I not know you had one? I've never heard it here before."

Tom sent him a knowing look at his abrupt subject change, arrogant sod, but he followed along with the new topic, "As you are aware this house belonged to my father's side of the family who were muggles. The clock was already here when I moved in. As much as I generally despise them as a whole, I will admit that muggles have the occasional individual capable of ingenuity and art. Grandfather clock's happen to be one such invention that I can appreciate. I find the chimes soothing."

"As to why you did not notice before now, the room is silenced from the outside. The clock can only be heard while inside the library itself."

Well that made sense. The information about Tom appreciating something muggle wasn't as surprising as it would have been a few months ago. Harry had noticed that Tom actually utilized a few muggle items during the day to day. The enchanted manila folders being only one example. Even his library had a fairly comprehensive selection of many of the classics of muggle literature.

Harry didn't share the view on muggles as a whole, but he understood where the personal resentment stemmed from. The difference between them lay in that Tom faulted them for being muggle and Harry faulted them for being human. He doubted that being wizards would have made the Dursleys better people after all. His aunt would have found different reasons for her jealousy and his uncle would probably have been a male version of Umbridge. He mentally recoiled at that comparison. His uncle in a fuzzy pink cardigan was not a pleasant image.

A bit more surprising than the knowledge that Tom could appreciate anything muggle, was to hear the man admit it out loud. Something that could possibly be attributed to the late hour. Harry paused in his thoughts. It had finally sunk in that it was after midnight. He had come by rather late and he was probably lucky Tom had still been awake. For some _completely unfathomable_ reason, he just couldn't picture the man being a ray of sunshine if he was suddenly pulled away from his sleep. Yes he decided, he was very, very lucky Tom had been awake.

Harry stood, "I should go and probably attempt sleep or at least pretend to sleep. You should probably get some sleep too. I don't want your death eaters to come blaming me for you being extra grumpy and curse happy due to fatigue."

He considered a moment, "Unless it's the rat. In that case, go crazy."

Tom actually rolled his eyes at him. Now Harry knew the man must be tired. Or possibly Ragnorak was starting and they would all be eaten by a giant snake in short order. Tom's more causal mannerisms occasionally slipped through his dark lord facade, but eye rolling was a shocking new development for the normally reserved man. His bet was on the world serpent eating them.

He decided a tactical retreat was in order, else he be accused of starting the apocalypse, and made a beeline for the library exit.

"Potter."

Harry froze in place like he had just been caught out of bed after curfew at school. He hesitantly turned back to Tom only to see a small object come flying towards his face. He reflexively caught it and realized it was some kind of small package.

He looked back at Tom, but the man was already returning to his book. Tom spoke dismissively, "Congratulations on surviving to see twenty brat. Now leave."

It wasn't until he was halfway down the hall that the meaning of Tom's words clicked in his mind and Harry remembered the date. July 31st. His birthday.

He snorted, a small smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. Slytherins.

* * *

Severus was unnerved. They had gathered once more in Minerva's office to finalize the plans for the battle in two days time. Everything was prepared. The dark army was mobilized and awaiting their Lord's command, the Order had been 'tipped off' about the large attack that was being ordered, the ministry was to be called in at the last minute to provide witnesses if nothing else. None of this had Severus worried. No what had Severus so on edge was the almost gleeful amusement practically radiating off the dunderhead sitting to his left.

That look on Potter's face never bode well for anyone. With the possible exception of Potter himself. Minerva simply looked at the boy with fond amusement. She had not spent enough time around this new Potter to recognize the danger signs. She was probably drawing connections to the many times the boy's blasted father had been called to her office after yet another worthless prank. He almost envied her the blissful ignorance. Instead, he took some small consolation in that the Dark Lord seated on Potter's other side was watching the boy with equal wariness.

Ever the meddling fool, it was Dumbledore that made the mistake of querying over the brat's obvious delight, "Harry my boy, may I ask what it is that has you in such high spirits this day?"

Severus caught a flickering scowl cross Potter's face as he glanced towards the portrait. However, he quickly regained his gleeful light as he returned his gaze to it's previous position. A position that Severus belatedly realized was aimed precisely at a very specific object. He inwardly groaned as it registered.

"Hey Tom! How do you feel about being killed with Gryffindor's sword? The same sword that has been imbibed with the poison of Slytherin's own basilisk!"

A far too bright smile that simply oozed wicked amusement stretched across Potter's face as he turned towards the man in question and cheekily chirped, "Just think of the poetic justice! The papers will eat it right up!"

It was a true test of his self control to remain impassive in his chair. He had the strong and regrettably familiar urge to try and strangle that cheery demeanor right out of the imbecile. The Dark Lord had closed his eyes in a sign of practiced resignation and was massaging his temples. Minerva had gained a wide eyed shocked look that Severus derived dark satisfaction from. Serves her right to think Potter could be anything resembling normal.

These moments with Potter would be far less painful if the outlandish suggestions he often made weren't also decent ones. If he could vent his frustrations with mocking the boy for his idiocy, he would have saved himself all those headache draughts. As much as he hated to admit it, the brat was right. He could picture the headlines. Boy-Who-Lived triumphs over Slytherin's heir with Gryffindor's own sword on Hogwarts grounds. The public would eat it up faster than a ravenous dragon would consume a goat.

Potter hopped up and grabbed the sword from the shelf. He looked down at in in thought for a moment before giving a decisive nod and returning to his seat, sword and hand.

"Potter you are the last person I would entrust a sharp, deadly weapon to. Especially a weapon that is coated with the most potent snake venom known to man. Do not so much as think about coming near me with that or I will not hesitate to cut off the hand holding it in the name of self defense."

Potter looked at him in mock affront, "Why Professor, it sounds like you doubt my skills with the sword! I'm hurt. Don't worry I think I figured it out well enough in my second year. Pointy end through whatever is trying to kill me. I'm practically a sword master already."

Potter grinned madly at his declaration. Severus was not convinced and kept his hand on his wand just in case the idiot boy tried anything.

Potter chuffed a laugh and lightly stroked the pommel turning to looked at it in thought, "In all seriousness though it makes sense to use it. The Headmaster only defeated and then captured Grindlewald and I was an infant for Voldemort's first demise. With things as they are, the public won't settle for anything less than Voldemort's death. However, that puts me in a precarious position. While nobody is likely to protest me actually killing the man, they might have issues with the method I use to do it."

He looks back up and his expression is serious, "If the Boy-Who-Lived were to resort to the killing curse or any magic classified as dark it could potentially backfire on us. You can't blame an infant for killing somebody, but you can blame an adult. They'd probably still heap praise on me for doing their dirty work and it's possible nothing would come from it. However, it's also possible they would finally realize that I'm not their perfect savior and there might be consequences of that knowledge."

"On the other hand I use the sword of Gryffindor. It's almost the picturesque storybook ending. No questionable magic involved. The heroic Godric Gryffindor's own sword that I personally pulled from the sorting hat itself to protect Hogwarts. I won't have murdered somebody. I will have vanquished a great evil. I will be practically above reproach. The embodiment of their image of the Boy-Who-Lived."

Potter sat back in his chair and watched them while his words filtered through their minds. That is what Severus found so utterly frustrating about the boy. When did that idiotic brat learn to make even the most absurd suggestions sound like perfectly reasonable common sense? It was infuriating that even Severus himself had come to expect sound reasoning lurking behind what should otherwise come off as inane prattle. Why couldn't Potter just start with the explanation and save them all the dramatics?

Severus would be glad when his part in this was over. He was going to hide himself in his quarters and stay as far away from the migraine inducing nuisance as he could manage. He would leave the Dark Lord to put up with Potter. Severus would occupy himself with his potions research and ruthlessly shove away any thoughts remotely related to the menace. He would rather be teaching Hufflepuffs than deal with Potter's special brand of rational craziness.

Tom glanced at Severus. The man appeared to have drawn further into himself if that was possible. He quickly dismissed the thought in favor of considering Potter's proclamation. He personally found the idea of Lord Voldemort being felled by an object such as Gryffindor's sword somewhat distasteful. However, he also conceded that Potter had a point. It would perfectly fit the image of the righteous hero swooping in to save the day.

The plan had it's downsides of course. It would eliminate much of the perceived moral grayness out of the conflict. The stigma of dark versus light and good versus evil would inevitably be enforced in the minds of the public. This would have happened to some extent anyway. Especially considering the public still believed the boy to be the Chosen One even if he had been missing for three years. Which meant they would also look to Potter to define where those lines are.

He slowly nodded, "Yes, this could work. We will need to tread extra carefully to reign in the backlash against anything labeled dark, but with some well placed interviews it should be manageable."

"Yes well," The headmistress interjected, "be that as it may, how are you going to make it look like you are fighting and killed? I somehow doubt that you are actually going to allow Mr. Potter here to stab you with a sword of all things."

Tom raised an eyebrow at her disinterestedly. This part had actually been one of the easier aspects to arrange.

"Using a ritual, I created a golem in the image of Lord Voldemort. My temporary vessel before my resurrection was actually modified from this method. Although it suffered some ill effects due to not being made from my own flesh and Wormtail's general incompetence. I digress. As I demonstrated with Quirrell I have something of a talent for possession. I will simply possess the golem and fight Potter that way. I will be hidden nearby and will make an appearance as Lord Guant once I return to my body to help procure the rest of the death eaters."

Potter dryly replied, "Only you would talk about creating a golem and not just controlling it from a distance, but casting powerful magic through it like it was as simple as levitating a feather. Do you have any idea just how skewed your concept of difficult is?"

He glared at the brat, "Like you are one to talk Potter. You stumble your way through complicated magics accidentally and don't even realize that it should have been near impossible unless somebody bothers to tell you."

Of course Potter became indignant at that, "That's not true-"

Tom didn't even give him a chance to protest before he interrupted, "The Patronus at thirteen for one. No fourteen year old should be able to throw off the Imperius like you did. Don't even get me started on the Raven Incident."

Potter groaned in exasperation, "Those were all extremes circumstances. Besides I don't think it warrants being called an incident. I told you I had been working on it. It wasn't that much of a stretch. It didn't even work completely."

They had had this argument multiple times now, but Tom was not going to back down, "It shouldn't have worked at all! That's not something you are supposed to be able to just force and then complete at the rate you did. Generally when something like that happens it's a setback. It went badly the first time so your instincts automatically catalogue it as dangerous. That should make it more difficult to achieve not easier."

Potter just stubbornly crossed his arms and glared, "I'm not the one who considers complicated ritual construction as something akin to a recreational pastime."

Dumbledore's portrait did not know when to give up. Apparently that last comment was simply too much for him to overlook, "Harry, surely you realize how dark the magic Tom is using is? Both the creation of golems and possession are highly dangerous and illegal. You cannot condone such a thing."

Potter flatly replied, "I looked over that golem ritual and I don't really see the problem with it. It doesn't require any kind of sacrifice beyond their own blood the castor provides in order to give the magic direction in shaping the form. It doesn't work if you try to use somebody else's blood. It could be used for some questionable things sure, but the magic itself isn't inherently evil."

"Also Headmaster you're being a bit hypocritical. From what I understand possession is part of the mind arts and just an extension of legillimancy. I don't see how a skill that you yourself put to use suddenly becomes dark magic when taken a step further. I agree it should be strictly regulated and if people are caught trying to possess other people against their will there should be severe consequences. However, the old Druids used to possess animals for scouting and the like. There are plenty of applications where it is useful and benign."

Harry shrugged, "Blanket banning whole forms of magic is just stupid. Even if it wasn't, Tom's a Dark Lord. Even if I did agree with your definition of dark magic, I would hardly expect a dark lord to not utilize it. That would be like expecting you to not eat lemon drops just because I thought Gummi Bears were the better candy."

Dumbledore looked both resigned and disappointed. Tom wasn't sure at what exactly. He felt there was more to it than Potter's stance on the nature of magic. It didn't take an observant mind like Severus' to figure out that Potter had strayed from the man's carefully plotted path, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something. There was a rift between them that wasn't based on Potter's newly revealed political stance.

Not that it mattered. Dumbledore was nothing more than oil and canvas and memory now. They had a battle to prepare for and a new world order to herald in to the wizarding populace. Two more days and all their carefully laid plans could be put to motion. Britain had no idea what was in store for them.


End file.
